


Mask of an Angel

by limitlessrose (shinealightrose)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Eventual Smut, Everybody is pretty open, Except no one knows what's going on Sicheng's head, Housemates, M/M, Non-Exclusive Johnil, Sexy things, So like canon but not actually canon hahaha, side!yutae - Freeform, very slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-05-03 21:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14577810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinealightrose/pseuds/limitlessrose
Summary: Taeil acquires a housemate, and he's not sure whether Sicheng likes him, doesn't like, or just wants to devour him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just like Winil okay. Also Johnil

Taeil’s always had this feeling there was something a little _off_ about Dong Sicheng. Maybe it’s the way his eyes seem to glaze over when someone is talking to him, maybe the way he responds in under five-word sentences. Yuta assures him repeatedly, whenever Taeil feels the need to double check, that Sicheng knows enough Korean to understand what people are saying, but the way he interacts with just about everyone causes Taeil to doubt.

It’s been about two months since Taeil’s had his strange new housemate. Taeil lives in a single story, two bedroom house sandwiched between homes just as small and cramped as his own. It’s a decent enough neighborhood, which is to say it’s not the slums, and Taeil is grateful for that. Practically every penny of his salary goes towards rent and the add-on amenities of utilities, water, electricity, etc. Before Sicheng moved in and Taeil was suddenly receiving a small bit of extra cash, he ate ramen for dinner most nights. Now, he still eats ramen. Somehow the rest of his lifestyle eats up whatever bonus money he thought he’d have. Perhaps that dinner out he shared with Johnny when Taeil was so pleased he could finally afford to treat that he splurged a little too much. Yeah, that’s probably what happened. That and a thousand other tiny expenses. Taeil doesn’t handle his money well, and everyone seems to know it.

It began with a call late one night from a former coworker Nakamota Yuta. He and Yuta weren’t terribly close when they worked the customer service phone desk for a makeup company that went out of business five years ago, but they’d gone drinking a couple of times in the line of work, which made him about as close a friend as Taeil had. Taeil doesn't usually give much of himself for others others to work with, outside of Johnny of course, but Yuta managed to squeeze in anyhow.

“Look, I have a friend… he’s back in Seoul and kind of desperate for a place to stay right now.”

The last time Yuta said the words, ‘I have a friend,’ Taeil had gotten shit-faced drunk puking on a sidewalk at two in the morning and had woken up sore and embarrassed to find this so-called-friend naked beside him still snoring at well past noon. Taeil finally got brave enough to wake him up and apologize. He’s seen Kim Dongyoung more than a couple dozen times since then hanging out with the guys), and it’s _always_ awkward as hell.

“What do you mean, you have a friend? Look, Yuta, I don’t really have space for a roommate-”

“What about your second bedroom? You still have the second bedroom right?”

“Uhm, it’s a study?”

Yuta had snorted. “You mean it’s where you throw all the shit you don’t know what to do with? Don’t you have a pullout couch in there or something?”

Taeil did, in fact, have a pullout couch. That plus the angle Yuta pushed about how Taeil could do with a little extra cash made him cave. Dong Sicheng moved in two days later with a few expressionless words of greeting and little besides. He carried one suitcase of his own and two extra bags of food courtesy of Yuta’s older sister. The suitcase disappeared inside the mess of a study within a few short hours. The food Taeil, Sicheng, and Yuta devoured had an even shorter lifespan.

 

Johnny comes over at least once a week. Taeil doesn’t have a name for him. They’re not boyfriends, because they’re not exclusive. Or well, Johnny isn’t exclusive, and Taeil has the same rights reserved for him except he’s too busy to sleep with anybody else and he’s not really looking anyways. They’ve been friends for a few years. He met him through Yuta, who else. Everyone in Taeil’s life apparently comes from Yuta, and if they don’t, then they will be soon. Even his _mom_ loves Yuta. Taeil just thinks Yuta is okay, and he hasn’t completely disappointed Taeil yet so he has that going for him.

“Hey, man, I’m Taeil’s friend.”

That’s how Johnny introduces himself to Sicheng. Sicheng had been warned ahead of time, but like all things, it didn’t phase him. Meeting Johnny doesn’t phase him either. He gives Johnny half of a smile and he takes Johnny’s hand which has been offered to him.

“Hello.”

That’s the extent of their conversation. Johnny too had been warned about Taeil’s new housemate. If he’s curious to find Taeil wasn’t exaggerating about Sicheng’s antisocial personality, he doesn’t show it. For the rest of the evening, they converse with each other and occasionally include Sicheng out of politeness but after a while, Taeil doesn’t bother anymore. Long before he and Johnny start making out, Sicheng goes to bed. The next two months pass by with much of the same.

  


So when Taeil starts to feel something _off_ about Dong Sicheng, he doesn’t really have the words to describe it. Taeil’s never been one for talking much in general. In crowds, he inevitably fades into the background, and that’s fine, he’s made his peace with that. But Sicheng gives him a run for his money in the whole _disappearing_ but _not_ disappearing thing. What’s unnerving is when he does it at home, with just the two of them alone.

For instance, Taeil wakes up some mornings to find the TV on in the living room with the sound down low and Sicheng reclining still as a statue on the couch. Half the time he makes no move to acknowledge Taeil’s existence. The same things occur when they’re sitting across the table from each other eating something Taeil’s cooked up for them to eat. Taeil ends up slurping his ramen. Sicheng manages to eat even quieter than him, and he makes no eye contact despite Taeil trying more than once to strike up a conversation. Even the simple, ‘So, how was your day?’ go mostly unanswered. Sicheng hums or nods, or shrugs, or frowns.

According to Yuta, Sicheng’s working a couple of jobs while he seeks out better, full-time employment. But Taeil can’t picture him as a waiter, or as the guy who serves out ice cream at the neighborhood parlor. The image requires Sicheng being nice, smiling, at the very least, talking to customers.

The longest conversation Taeil’s ever had with him went a little like this:

“Hey, I was wondering if you could help me keep the trash cans sorted?”

 _A nod_.

“Do you know they work?”

 _A shake_.

“Uhm, I can show you if that’s alright. Is now okay?”

“Uhh, can I shower first?”

“Sure. Sure, come knock on my door when you’re out and we can talk about it.”

“Okay.”

  
  


According to Yuta (everything’s according to Yuta, okay), he and Sicheng went to high school together. Some place that focused on the performing arts, and they lost contact for a while until Sicheng returned to Seoul and got in touch with him again. Taeil finds it strange trying to imagine Sicheng asking anybody for help, but apparently, that's how it went. Every now and then Yuta drops by and invites everybody out for drinks and entertainment. Johnny comes too and they find some exclusive club where Yuta knows the owners, so they get past the bouncers with ease, and they traipse the line across to the VIP corner, and Yuta gets smashed before hitting on some willing partner. Last week it was a girl called Sana, this week a boy called Taeyong.

Sicheng dresses up nice (he gets no complaints from Yuta, unlike Taeil’s outfit which required some tweaking). Taeil forgets about him anyway after a couple of drinks.

“Feeling good, babe?”

And Taeil nods because he’s properly buzzed and Johnny’s crowding into his space dancing with his hand right above the curve of Taeil’s ass.

He nuzzles Johnny’s chest, arms swung low around his hips, and sucks on a spot just north of his collarbone. Johnny makes the most appreciative sounds, sending Taeil’s blood straight to his dick. They grind together slowly, with no undue actions. It’s just appropriate enough for a semi-public setting, even if Yuta isn’t following the same rules. As Johnny and Taeil circle the floor he catches a glimpse of him back beside the bar in the lap of that boy Taeyong, and by the action of their hips, the stretch of his neck as his head dangles precariously backward, plus his silent groan, Taeil swears Yuta just came in pants, or is very close to it.

The interesting thing is that Sicheng is sitting right next to them. He’s swirling a half-empty beer can, with a few empty ones littered beside him. He looks dead gorgeous with his blond hair swept up and the black choker around his neck, and maybe it’s the joint frame of Yuta orgasming beside him, but Taeil thinks in that moment that Sicheng looks delectable.

The _really_ interesting thing is that Sicheng has a front-row view of whatever Yuta’s doing with Taeyong. Instead, he’s staring straight at Taeil.

Taeil tears his head away, heart suddenly racing. Johnny notices, and before Taeil can warn him not to look, he looks.

Mortified, Taeil buries his head into the crook of Johnny’s neck, surprised when Johnny only laughs.

“Babe, have you just noticed?”

“Noticed what?”

“Your housemate. He’s been eyeing you up like that practically all night.”

Then Johnny groans, as if he finds that _hot_. And knowing Johnny, he probably does.

They make it home a few hours later, taxis departing in separate directions in front of the club, and at this point Taeil is too drunk to care how’s he sandwiched between Johnny on one side, who can’t keep his hands off him, and a silent, statuesque Sicheng on the other, who keeps his gaze straight ahead. And if they’re a little louder that night once they’re home in bed, Johnny coaxing Taeil for every moan he’s worth, one flimsy little wall separating his room from Sicheng’s, Taeil almost doesn’t remember.

  


He goes to lunch with a few of his acquaintances a couple of days later. A few are coworkers from his current job, some of whom like Taeil transferred over when their last company went under. That means of course that most of them know Yuta, or at least run in the same vague circle, though the man in question isn’t here today. Taeil’s almost relieved. He greets a few of the guys when he gets to the table. There are Jaehyun and Kun from Marketing, Mark and Donghyuck from Sales. Jungwoo’s an IT guy. A little farther down the table sit parcel of girls, Jennie, Jisoo, Lisa and Rose, most of whom belong to management. In the middle of them, basking in the attention sits Lucas, also an IT guy.

“What are we eating?” asks Donghyuck before declaring two seconds later. “Let’s get the seafood platter. Waiter! Over here, please! We’re ready!”

Jaehyun snorts, and Mark looks ready to put up an argument but drops it after a look from Donghyuck. Taeil folds his arms and waits for whatever food comes his way. He’s learned not to argue with the menu, especially with their youngest co-worker around. He chats with Jaehyun in the meantime, work-related things that not even Jaehyun’s in the mood for, and the conservation dwindles. A couple of minutes later he nearly shits his pants when the door opens up again, indicating a new customer, followed by hearty cries of “Dongyoung, you made it! Hey, come sit here. Taeil you can scoot a bit, yeah?”

The guy Taeil accidentally had a one-night stand with one year back is suddenly sitting next to him, elbow to elbow.

“You remember Taeil, right?” asks Jaehyun, who is Dongyoung’s _freakin boyfriend_ , and probably was even back then, or at least on the cusp of it, Taeil’s not certain about the timeline.

“Uhh, yeah, we’ve met,” says Dongyoung, not meeting Taeil’s eyes. Taeil nods emphatically and says nothing more.

The food arrives and Taeil quietly stuffs his mouth. He’s not sure how the conversation gets around to Sicheng, who’s met most of the guys during various outings, but of course it does. Why shouldn’t it? Everyone loves to talk about Sicheng like they’re some kind of cult and Sicheng is their favorite object of worship.

Because here’s the second weirdest thing about Yuta’s best friend, and Taeil’s impromptu housemate: not only is Sicheng weird as fuck, but he’s apparently got the rest of the world eating out of the palm of his hand?!

Kun’s the one who starts it.

“Anyone know the status of Sicheng’s audition process?”

“I don’t,” says Mark.

“Me neither,” says Jungwoo.

“I saw Yuta the other night,” begins Jaehyun, before rounding on Taeil. “Wait, you live with Sicheng. What’s up with his audition?”

“His, what? Audition?” Taeil balks. He vaguely remembers something about Sicheng applying to a dance company, but not as an active dancer.

Donghyuck smirks. “Taeil never pays attention to stuff like that.”

Mark looks to disagree, but again, he shuts up after a look from Donghyuck.

Jaehyun is frowning at Taeil, Kun hums. At the other end of the table it sounds like Lucas is about to proclaim his undying love to not just one of the managers, but all four of them at once.

Taeil’s voice comes out in stutters. “I... I don’t know exactly? I can ask?”

“Nah,” says Donghyuck. “I’ll just ask Yuta. Oh wait, aren’t we all going bowling this weekend?”

“Bowling?!” Mark cries out. “Of all things, why are we going _bowling?”_

“Yeah, why are we going bowling?” Jungwoo chips in.

“Because it’s fun!” Donghyuck protests. “What’s gotten into you guys lately? Heathens.”

“Someone should invite Sicheng.”

“Taeil, invite Sicheng, okay?” That’s Jaehyun.

“Okay…”

“Wait, don’t do that. He probably won’t come if Taeil asks. Get Yuta to do it.” This from Kun.

“Why Yuta, and not just one of us?” Mark.

“Because he likes Yuta more.” Donghyuck, obviously.

“Yuta? I thought he liked Mark.” Jaehyun’s sounding more and more confused.

“He does like Mark, but Mark’s a shy little scaredy-pants and hates making telephone calls. Or texting.” Donghyuck pinches Mark’s cheek. “Anyways, long as it’s not Taeil.” He laughs. “Everybody knows Sicheng doesn’t like Taeil.”

There’s more laughter this time, but only in pockets, and the conversation flows on with just a few people stopping to look at each other. One of those people is Jaehyun, who looks confusedly at Taeil; Mark who looks a bit stunned; and the last person is Taeil himself, who doesn’t know what he’s feeling, but it’s kind of like the floor just gave out on him. His legs twitch under the table, kicking the table leg and pushing his chair out from its place. Taeil’s body almost doesn’t follow it, but surprisingly it’s Dongyoung who grabs his arm and keeps him from hitting the ground.

“Taeil, you alright?” says Jaehyun softly, peering across his boyfriend’s lap.

“Uhm, I’m fine. Yeah. Sorry, I think I’m just feeling a little… sick, I don’t know, maybe it was the food.”

Mark pauses with his chopsticks halfway to his mouth, before putting them down. Taeil halfway thinks he’s caused him to be suspicious of the food, but a moment later Mark says quietly across the table, “Hey, Taeil? You’re not upset ‘cause of what we said about Sicheng, right?”

Taeil can’t reply respond to that without lying, so he stays quiet. Apparently, that’s all it takes for Mark to correctly read the situation. He backtracks hurriedly. “I mean, we don’t think he hates you, we just don’t think he… likes you very well?”

Jaehyun hisses. “Mark! Not helping!”

Mark winces and looks properly cowed. Taeil, however, really wants to know.

“Why do you think that anyway? Like, why do you think he doesn’t like me?”

Because in all fairness, he didn’t consider that maybe Sicheng had a problem with him. Sure they’re not close, and they’re not really friends, but they do live under the same roof, and they’ve never fought before. They don’t even have petty domestic arguments about keeping the bathroom cleaned to fit each other’s standards.

“I don’t know,” Mark shrugs. “It’s just like, whenever you’re in the same room together, I just always see him glaring at you?”

Jaehyun shakes his head in obvious disagreement. “He doesn’t glare at him, Mark. He just, I don’t know, looks at you strangely.” He hangs his head, as if sorry he’s unable to clarify. Taeil thinks back to a few nights ago when he caught Sicheng staring at him in the club with Johnny. Has he been interpreting that all wrong? Was _Johnny_ wrong? Was Sicheng really not looking at him because he finds Taeil hot, and is he really all this time just been _glaring_?

He leaves the lunch table a little shaken and determined to clear his head, put a little focus into his housemate’s actions, or lack thereof. The possibility he’s done something to so seriously put off another human being eats at him for the rest of the day, into the afternoon and well past the hour he clocks off.

Sicheng doesn’t come until late most weekdays, so there’s no one at home to keep Taeil from rage cleaning the entire kitchen and dining area, half the living room, the laundry nook, his bedroom, the bathroom, and he’s just thinking about barging into Sicheng’s ‘study’ to organize the remaining shit he left in there before deciding he should probably wait to see if that counts as intrusive.

He even talks to Johnny for half an hour on the phone when it’s all said and done, ignoring the topic of Sicheng, until Sicheng himself finally comes home.

Taeil stares at him like a hawk this time, literally craning his head to follow his housemate’s journey through the front door, and down the hall to his room, to the bathroom, and finally to the kitchen to nibble on some leftovers, but… nothing seems out of the ordinary to him? Sicheng is just his normal self in front of Taeil. Which is to say he smiles once, says approximately two words for every twenty minutes, and says absolutely nothing before going to bed.

Nothing about the entire exchange screams that Sicheng either likes _or_ dislikes him. Which, quite frankly, now that Taeil thinks about it, kind of sucks.

  


By the weekend, however, things change. Taeil even goes so far to blame himself this time. As he explains to Johnny not once, but upwards of _seven_ times, “I think I’ve been too unsocial around Sicheng since he moved in. Do you think I should be more of a friend to him? Is that why he still doesn’t talk to me much? Because I don’t make enough of an effort? Am I just really too invested in my own life, and that’s how he sees me, so he thinks I don’t care, and therefore _he_ doesn’t care? Why does Donghyuck think he hates me? _I_ don’t think he hates me. But I’m starting to think Mark’s right, and whatever it is, he just doesn’t appear to _like me_.”

It takes a couple of minutes before Johnny will stop laughing over the phone, and this is probably the seventh time he’s had to respond.

“Taeil, babe, I’ve told you. You’re totally overreacting to this. Sicheng is just Sicheng. If he doesn’t feel like talking to you, so what. If you want to try talking to him, then okay, do it. If he doesn't like you, then fine, although I would _seriously_ disagree with that assessment. I mean, I’m a discerning person, and _I_ think you’re fine as hell.”

That makes Taeil laugh. Johnny’s an actual angel, except maybe when he’s in bed.

“Yeah, tell me what else I am?”

Johnny hums over the line, and Taeil can just picture him lying crossways on top of his bed, head hanging off the side, long legs falling over the other side, arms stretched up by his ears and a goofy smile on his face.

“What else are you hmm, hmmmm hmmm. Well for one, you’re cute. You’re also, really adorable. And cute. You’re a tiger in bed. But, you know, a fluffy one. Did I mention you’re cute?”

“Johnnyyy,” Taeil cringes.

It goes on for another ten minutes at least. Taeil’s lying on his own bed with the door open, but he hears when Sicheng comes home. Sicheng has to walk past his doorway to get to the bathroom, and Taeil just so happens to be responding to Johnny’s _shockingly_ dirty mouth with a fitful of giggles, when Sicheng’s face passes by the door.

And there, there it is. Sicheng is _glaring_ at him.

Taeil’s laughter dies abruptly in his throat. He chokes.

“Taeil, you alright?” asks Johnny, suddenly worried.

“I’m fine, yeah!” Taeil cries, scrambling to sit up even though Sicheng is no longer there. “Sicheng just got home. I think I’m gonna…” His voice trails off hopelessly.

“I read you, babe. Go get him. Goodnight! My cutie!”

The problem with Taeil’s newfound desire to _make friends_ with Sicheng, is that he’s been kind of unable to do that. They’re so rarely home at the same time during the week, and when they are Sicheng is off to bed before Taeil can implement anything more industrious that _staring_ at him. There, he admits it. He’s been staring more and more at Sicheng hoping to catch his housemate doing something back, anything! And so, more and more he isn’t seeing that standard blank expression. Which sounds lovely except instead, Taeil’s been getting a look more akin to… aggravation.

So, maybe he’s trying too hard.

Case in point, when he encounters Sicheng coming out of the bathroom two minutes later, he says, “Hey!” which to Taeil’s ears is overly loud and just a little startling. Sicheng seems to agree. He freezes with his one hand behind his ear, scratching his head, and his eyes pop open wide.

“Hi?” he says in return.

Taeil mistakenly beams at him, which causes Sicheng to become even more startled. It also causes Taeil to trip over every well-intentioned plan he had for _making friends_. He resorts hastily to an impromptu Plan B.

“So, I was wondering, like. I know when you moved in I semi-cleaned out your room, but I’ve got all that junk in there piled up in the corner.”

Sicheng just stares at him like, _yes, I know_.

Taeil goes on. “I almost went in a couple of days ago to start clearing it out but then I didn’t want you to think I was comfortable just _barging_ into your room whenever I felt like it. But, do you mind if I go in there for a bit and get some of it organized, remove stuff, or… something?”

Sicheng finally stops frowning at him, begins to nod instead.

“You want to, now?”

“Now?!” Now wasn’t in Taeil’s plan, but apparently, Sicheng thinks it is.

“Now is good. Just, one minute.”

Taeil swallows thickly and doesn’t leave the doorway. Instead, he watches Sicheng retreat into his room to grab a few things to take a shower, but before he goes into the bathroom he waves his hand at Taeil as if to say, _yeah, now is fine. You may enter._ All without words of course.

There’s nothing left for Taeil except to follow through. He’s tired and no longer in a cleaning funk, but as Sicheng said, now is good.

The corner of the room where Taeil left his crap truly is something of a mess. It’s boxes and books, and notebooks, spilling out and over one another and onto the floor. Some of it’s work-related. Some of it may actually be from _college_ , and wow Taeil should have sorted through this stuff sooner. There’s even a box of old CDs Taeil hasn’t touched in years, filled to the brim with loose discs, broken cases, and empty sleeves. Taeil doesn’t even own a CD player anymore.

He’s just finished sorting through the stuff he _knows_ what to do with when Sicheng returns from the shower.

Without looking up Taeil says, “Sorry, I’ll just be a minute and then you can sleep.”

Sicheng hums. “No problem.”

There’s a noise like Sicheng just plopped on his bed, and Taeil starts to rush. Papers slip from his hands, and a tower of notebooks comes crashing down to the floor. Taeil accidentally kicks the box of CDs into another emptier box and winces at the sound of something breaking. Sicheng hasn’t said a word.

Finally, Taeil determines which stuff he can carry out tonight, and with that, he glances over at the pullout couch bed as if to reassure Sicheng he’s about to get out of his hair.

He gasps.

Sicheng is laying on his stomach, one arm propping up his head, the other playing with the corner of his comforter. His hair is spiky and dripping wet from the shower, and he hasn’t. gotten. dressed.

He’s laying there with just a damp towel wrapped around his waist, entire torso bare and half of it angled so Taeil can see. His legs are on display up to his thighs. Long, trim dancer’s legs, also dewy with moisture from the shower.

And the worst part is, far from looking blank, or even mad, Sicheng is staring straight into Taeil’s face, almost shamelessly, as if he might devour him…

“Uhm, Sicheng?”

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for minor voyeurism/exhibitionism. And Yuta. Yuta should come with his own warning.

There’s a pretty simple reason Taeil and Johnny aren’t an exclusive thing. In spite of the fact they are great friends, reasonably companionable, and compatible as lovers, Johnny is the one who won’t settle down. It’s not something they can just _talk_ about either. Sure, they had that conversation once, and only once, but it went more along the lines of Johnny laying down the line and Taeil agreeing with it, because why the hell not.

In all actuality Taeil didn’t want to agree with it then. It’s only in last year he’s truly come to terms not only with the fact that Johnny isn’t his exclusively, but that he won’t be in perpetuity. Alright so he was a little bit in love with Johnny before they started ‘dating’ if that can be the proper term. But heartbreak’s too strong a word for Taeil’s mild personality. Heartsick is too melodramatic. Honestly, Taeil prefers the phrase pleasantly bitter. Like a pill he just has to swallow, and after a while it becomes painless, then practically nonexistent.

Right, okay, so Taeil definitely suffered some form of heartbreak in the past, and now he’s good with it. And of course, the only person who knows about this is Yuta. (It’s always Yuta, okay.) Which means Taeil can’t help but wonder if this might have been the reason Yuta sent him a ‘friend’.

“Uhm, Sicheng?”

His housemate startles, then blinks, looking away fast. Taeil doesn’t move, frozen in place by some form of abject panic because, was Sicheng actually looking at him that way, or was he just in another kind of trance which just so happened to coincide with Taeil’s position?

Sicheng sits up so quickly he almost falls off the bed. His towel even begins to come unraveled from his waist, but Sicheng grabs it.

Taeil gulps. He’s almost disappointed. “You okay?” he asks instead.

“Fine. Sorry. I’m fine. Are you done?”

“Yeah, I’m done.” Taeil hefts the small pile he determined to carry away, ignoring the larger mess he’s made of the corner. “Sorry, I’ll get out of your hair now so you can sleep.”

“Uhh, yeah. I want to sleep. Goodnight.”

He’s standing in the middle of the room next to the bed with his hands holding up the towel, hair still a dripping mess and his eyes still blown wide with something Taeil recognizes as fright.

“Goodnight…” says Taeil. He bows his head, half out of apology, and escapes from the room. Ten seconds later, he hears Sicheng close the door, followed by a strangled, low grunt and a single word.

“ _Shit._ ”

  
  


Sundays around the house are normally as mundane as a Sunday can get. It’s Taeil’s last day to catch up on laundry before the work week. It’s also the day he buys groceries and gets grand ideas about coordinating a meal schedule for the rest of the week. He usually fails, which is why breakfast and dinner are so haphazard, and for lunch, he spends way too much money eating out with his coworkers.

This Sunday morning, following last night’s disaster with Sicheng, Taeil escapes the house as fast as can be.

He’s barely presentable: sweatpants, a sweater, a hopefully clean pair of socks worn under his rattiest sneakers that he can’t wear to work. At least he combed his hair. His bangs are flattened down over his brow instead of their usual styled, gelled, and swept sideways work attire. He’s got his wallet and his phone, which is all a guy really needs, although truthfully he almost forgot his phone in his haste to get away.

He searches his recent texts list frantically, hoping to find someone who will agree to meet him for breakfast so he doesn’t look like a loser. It’s too early for Johnny, too late for Mark who’s probably already at the gym. Jaehyun’s a definite no because Taeil still feels weird about him after the whole Dongyoung thing. There’s always his mom, but asking her out to breakfast would have required two days’ notice so she has time to carefully primp herself. And then Taeil would have spent more time on his own appearance so as to not attract her ire. (“You’re almost thirty. Why are you still dressing like a college student?”)

He settles on Yuta, even though Taeil suspects that’s a bad idea.

 _:: give me 15 minutes?::_ types Taeil’s blessed friend.

_:: sure. thanks ::_

_:: save your thanks and order me pancakes instead ::_

_:: got it ::_

That’s how he winds up talking about Sicheng at a quarter past eight on a Sunday morning when he’d much rather be sleeping in. As the waitress removes their empty, desecrated plates and refills Taeil’s third sad cup of coffee—Yuta leaning over the table yawning with his elbow on the table, hand propping his ear—Taeil makes that plunge.

“Tell me about Sicheng.”

Yuta’s eyebrows rise up. He frowns. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? By the way, how come you didn’t come to bowling night last night?”

Taeil gulps and tries to look sheepish. “Didn’t feel like it, sorry. Sicheng went though right? I told him he was invited.”

“He came. Didn’t say much though.”

“Did he say anything about me?”

Yuta takes a sip of his own coffee and smirks. He even tries to hide it behind the mug. Taeil’s too smart for that. Also, a little bit ashamed.

“So you’re finally worried about what he thinks of you, Taeil, my darling.” Yuta actually laughs.

“Stop that. Anyways I was just curious.”

“Sure you are.”

“I am though,” Taeil insists.

In a heartbeat, Yuta’s smirk falls away. Then he muses for a while until he says, “Okay, but Jaehyun told me something last night about Sicheng not liking you.”

Taeil’s heart plummets to the ground, and then some. “You heard about our lunch conversation the other day?”

Yuta nods. His gaze settles to the side for a few silent, agonizing seconds, while he people-watches through the wide glass front windows of the cafe. He seems to be thinking about something long and hard, and Taeil braces himself for whatever he’s going to say.

“Yeah. It’s not true though.”

“What? What isn’t?”

“Sicheng not liking you,” says Yuta with the most earnest face Taeil’s ever seen. “I don’t know why the guys think that. Anyways, I set you two up, and I like to think I know you both really well. You think I’d actually pair off two people if I thought they wouldn’t get along? Sicheng’s just really nervous around strangers for a while.”

“But we’re hardly strangers now? It’s been two months? We live together?” says Taeil, ignoring Yuta’s language about ‘setting them up’ which is probably just a turn of phrase.

Yuta sighs. “Yeah, I don’t know why he’s like that, but I’m positive it’s not because he dislikes you.”

“You sound really sure of that.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

And finally, Yuta’s smirk is back. “Why do you care?”

Taeil blows a raspberry into the air, leans back in his chair and avoids Yuta’s face. Yuta just laughs. He should have known he can’t beat Yuta in this kind of game. Yuta is too all-knowing. Even when he’s not he gives off the appearance of it, and that’s something Taeil isn’t willing to risk.

It takes Taeil a minute himself to realize what he just privately admitted. And when that happens, it’s like a light bulb turning on, burning brightly, and then exploding. _Snap!_ Suddenly he has the entire picture before his mind, the answer to that nagging sensation that drags him every time he thinks about Sicheng.

Taeil cares, oh, he certainly cares. Because Taeil wants Sicheng to like him.

Because _Taeil likes Sicheng_.

Really, how much more stupid can he be, to only realize this now?

He leaves the cafe twenty minutes later having successfully redirected Yuta’s inquiries (maybe) but with a social obligation to make his house presentable for later because, as Yuta instructs, “I’m coming over tonight for dinner and bringing one or two friends. Call Johnny. We’re having ‘casual night Sunday’ so I can inspect this whole Sicheng situation.”

Right. So, maybe Taeil didn’t manage to redirect. In his head, he echoes Sicheng’s final word from the night before.

“ _Shit_.”

  
  


Now that he’s had time to consider things, it’s so apparent now that Taeil likes Sicheng. The more ridiculous thing is that he doesn’t know why exactly. In general looks, he gives Sicheng ten out of ten. In hygiene (very important to Taeil), a decent nine out of ten. In sex appeal, well, damn. Taeil never imagined him that way before, but now he’s considering it, eleven out of ten. He can go on.

Taeil does, in fact, go on, all in his head of course. He stops by the grocery store, buys a bulk size package of frozen pizzas for ‘casual night Sunday’, a couple of liters of soda, and some beer, wondering what exactly it is about Sicheng he likes. Other than the attractiveness of course. One thing’s for certain, it isn’t because of their scintillating conversations.

Yuta’s explanation for Sicheng being shy around strangers keeps repeating in his head. So is his last phone call with Johnny where he got momentarily obsessed with the fact, he’s never made a real effort to get to know Sicheng.

He scrunches his eyes and grimaces at the checkout counter. “God, I hope tonight goes well.”

The cashier, a chubby-faced high schooler with dark circles under his eyes, just blinks at him. “Excuse me?”

Taeil flushes pink. “Ehh, nothing. Sorry. Have a good day. Goodbye.”

He takes his groceries and runs.

  
  


Johnny’s the first to arrive for the evening. Taeil doesn’t hear him knock from inside the bathroom, but he does hear Sicheng answering the door. And the following conversation.

“Hey, man, how you doing?” in Johnny’s melodic gusto voice.

“I’m good. Hello.” Sicheng sounds positively euphoric, compared to the normal tone he uses with Taeil.

“Taeil give you proper warning? There’s gonna be a party tonight! Wooo! Well, not as crazy as that, but.”

“He said something about it, yes.” Gone is all that [imaginary] euphoria.

He shoves the bathroom door open a bit harder than he usually would, sauntering into the hallway all primed for celebrating his newfound bad mood. Two seconds later Johnny’s smile wipes most of that away. That’s basically how their relationship works.

“Hey, babe,” says Johnny, reaching for Taeil, and it’s a measure for how much he likes Johnny that he lets himself be pulled into a tight hug, right in front of Sicheng. And also get kissed. Right in front of Sicheng. Not even his newly discovered feelings for his housemate (which he still doesn’t understand) can put a damper for how much he likes Johnny.

By the time Johnny gets himself situated in their living room and Taeil heads into the kitchen to prep the oven, Sicheng has done what he does best: shrink into the smallest armchair and pretend to look small. Taeil glances at him from time to time over the open counter separating the two rooms. His knees are up around his chin, long arms wrapped around to hold them in place. His hair is fluffy today, and his bare face adorable.

As soon as Johnny begins his small talk, and Sicheng actually replies—sparsely of course—Taeil decides to remain in place. How strange, he thinks, that Sicheng can actually smile and look pleasant when he’s interacting with practically _anyone_ whose name isn’t Taeil.

He doesn’t move again until the doorbell sounds. Yuta marches in like he owns the place, throwing out the briefest of introductions for his friends.

“Hey, guys. This is Ten. And this is Taeyong. Y’all might have met him, uhm, recently. Is the pizza in yet? I’m starving!”

He _almost_ gets away with it.

 _Johnny_ won’t let him get away with it. “Woah, woah, wait up a sec. Taeyong, right? Yeah, we met at that club. So you’re friends with Yuta now? And here I kind of thought it was just a one ni-”

Yuta kicks him hard on the shin. He’s got a smile plastered to his face but a death threat in his eyes.

“Nice to see you too, Johnny. Why don’t you let the actual hosts of the evening introduce themselves first.” He waves at Taeil. Also, surprisingly, at Sicheng. “These are my best friends. Taeil and Sicheng. Oh, come on, Taeil, don’t just stand there with your jaw hanging open. Say hi, won’t you?! Everyone just needs to _get along!”_

It’s certainly an icebreaker. Taeil hastens to perform his sudden ‘host’ duties, which requires saying hi apparently, offering seats, and passing out the beers. Then he quietly retires to the kitchen and attends to the trickiest operation of all: watching pizza dough rise.

He’s not so sure what to think about Yuta’s assumption that Taeil _and_ Sicheng are hosts, like, together. But not together. His brain is churning in that unpleasant way whenever he thinks about relationships. There’s also that weird thing about Johnny being here too. Sure they’re an open thing, but since they’ve been ‘together’ Taeil hasn’t earnestly desired someone else. If he dates Sicheng, does he break up with Johnny? Should he break up with Johnny before he approaches Sicheng? Is there even something to break up from or do they just stop whatever it is they’re doing now: acting like a couple, sleeping together. Do they go back to being friends without benefits? And if so, is it really that simple? Also, isn’t this line of questioning entirely too premature?

Taeyong is an easy going person apparently. He doesn’t color up at all at Johnny’s assumption. Instead, he laughs it off, then sits down next to the guy. Starts asking what Johnny does for a living, volunteers a bit about himself.

Ten is just as friendly. He sits across from Sicheng and asks similar questions. Taeil pays more attention to Sicheng’s answers than he does to Taeyong and Johnny.

“I’m a dancer.”

“Really? Me too! Well, I used to do it more. I work in a theater now, some of it’s just boring administration stuff, but I work on costume designs when needed. How long have you been dancing?”

Sicheng then rolls out the standard answers Taeil’s heard a million times.

“All my life?”

“Cool, cool! So what are you doing these days?”

“Oh. I auditioned for a few places, but I mostly want to choreograph.”

Ten is all grins. “Body’s getting old, right? How old are you now?”

“Twenty-six.”

“Oh you’re so ancient!” Ten laughs.

Between the two sets of forming acquaintances, Yuta just sits back and observes it all. He’s carved a niche for himself on the sofa beside Taeyong, one hand on Taeyong’s thigh, the other hand outstretched over the arm of the sofa holding his beer. He interjects every now and then until he realizes Taeil is making himself scarce.

“Now, now, this won’t do!” he shouts, craning his head around until he spots Taeil hiding in the kitchen. “What are you doing? Grinding the flour for the pizza dough?”

“Pretty much,” Taeil replies sheepishly.

That’s how he finds himself standing between the couch and Sicheng’s armchair when it all goes to hell. Ten looks them up and down, still with that grin promising nothing good, and he says. “So, Taeil and Sicheng, right? How long have you been together?”

And Yuta, shit-eating-grin-Yuta, smiles and answers for them. “Ohh, about two months.”

If Taeil had something to drink right then, he would have spit it out. Instead, it’s like Yuta dumped a bucket of ice water over his head. Taeil’s body shudders; his breath catches. Maybe it should be obvious from his reaction that Yuta told a lie, but Taeil knows from experience (and other peoples’ retellings) that when the carpet’s pulled out from under him, he has a tendency to just stand there and… smile.

It’s an awkward smile at least. Ten picks up that something’s wrong, though he completely misinterprets it. “Oh, I’m sorry. Should I not have said anything?”

Taeil panics, speechless. He looks over at Sicheng, expecting the other man to look something vaguely alike. At the very least Sicheng should look like a dying fish, that’s Taeil’s assumption given how well their relationship-not-a-relationship has been going for those so-called two months.

Instead, and this is perhaps the most perplexing: Sicheng hasn’t reacted at all, except for his ears which are a little pink. He stares at the floor right past Taeil’s socked feet and scratches his nose for a reply.

So it’s only Taeil reacting this way. He opens his mouth and says the first intelligent rebuttal that comes to mind.

“Uhhhh, Yuta?”

Yuta grimaces, devil eyes still twinkling through the room. “What? Am I wrong about the two months part? Have you been holding out on me?” He faux-gasps. “Longer?! Or no, shorter?”

Taeil’s still panicking so he turns to the next source of aid, “Johnny?” hoping his not-a-boyfriend will do something like clarify the situation or take pity on Taeil. Deep down he even kind of hopes Johnny will be upset and insist Taeil is taken, just not by Sicheng.

Instead, like all great betrayers, Johnny is silently laughing his ass off. If he has words to get Taeil out of this jam, they’re lost in the great mute cacophony that is Johnny’s amusement.

Thankfully, Taeil’s new best friend comes to his rescue. Taeyong says with no little confusion, directing his question to Yuta, “Aren’t Johnny and Taeil together though? I saw them at the club.”

That’s when Yuta loses it and gives himself over to giggles. Taeil’s probably bright red in the face now, and completely at a loss to explain why such an _innocent_ gag is affecting him so. Yuta continues cackling for a few more seconds, and Johnny apologetically beckons Taeil over. He pulls him down onto his lap, body still wracked with silent mirth, but he palms Taeil’s bare arms up and down and the familiarity of it finally calms Taeil down.

Yuta guffaws one last time, then sits up, wiping actual tears from his face. “I’m sorry, guys, but that was too funny. The look on Taeil’s face, oh my God!” To Ten he finally explains. “Nah, Taeyong’s right. I was just having a bit of fun. Taeil and Sicheng live together though, separate rooms!”

“So, you’re housemates?” asks Ten, still pondering the situation.

Taeil opens his mouth to answer, but it’s Sicheng surprisingly who beats him. “Yes, something like that.” His voice is low, humorless. Also, Taeil wonders by the intensity of Sicheng’s glare how Yuta hasn’t exploded yet or dissolved into ash. Yuta, completely oblivious to his general wellbeing, breaks into another string of giggles, so much that Ten finally sits back, crosses his arms behind his head and mutters, “Okay, you people are weird.” He doesn’t seem particularly perturbed by this assessment.

Miraculously, the oven timer beeps its final warning, and Taeil leaps to the occasion. Maybe food will solve this crisis, or at the very least, cover up all his woes.

  
  
  


It’s late by the time Yuta goes home, Taeyong and Ten escorting him one on each side because he had a few too many beers. Taeil shuts the door behind them with a soft sigh and a glance at the clock. A quarter till eleven, and way too late to be staying up for a Sunday night ahead of the workweek. Still though, Johnny’s still here, and when Taeil collapses onto the couch from exhaustion, Johnny catches him.

The rest of the evening was a bit of a blur. Taeil remembers silently relinquishing his ‘host’ duties to allow Yuta and Johnny to navigate the proper new-acquaintance dialogue. He took a leaf out of Sicheng’s book and made himself small, stuffed into the couch under Johnny’s arm and making eye contact with no one except Taeyong, who seemed genuinely friendly, and Ten whenever he asked him a question.

“Babe,” says Johnny now, kissing his forehead as Taeil topples gratefully into his lap. “When did you get so clingy?”

He can hear Sicheng moving around between his bedroom and the bathroom, so Taeil takes this opportunity to peer up at Johnny’s face and whimper. Yes, he’s pathetic. That’s all he’s got to say for himself.

Johnny laughs softly, stroking his hand through Taeil’s bangs and it feels so amazing Taeil could cry.

“Stay the night, please?” he begs.

Johnny pretends to contemplate. He wrings his lips together, and pouts, makes a big ponderous “Hmmmm? Should I?” before finally agreeing. “But only if you sit up and kiss me.”

Johnny makes kissing easy. He’s a giant softy with perfect manners but wandering hands. Taeil shifts into his lap, knees bracketing Johnny’s hips just as Johnny sinks lower into the sofa and tugs him down. They meet in a soft explosion of lips tainted with hops, a relieved moan of satisfaction Taeil can’t be sure comes from him or Johnny, or both. All he knows is that after the evening he’s had, after the day—after the week!—he’s had, this is definitely the best thing that’s happened to him. Sitting atop Johnny’s luscious body and having those arms wrapped around him, that hint of budding arousal.

He only pulls his mouth away to gasp softly when Johnny sneaks a hand down the back of his pants.

“Feels good?” asks Johnny, eyes blown halfway to lust, as he palms Taeil’s ass, caressing the skin at the same time he pulls him closer.

“Yeah, very good,” Taeil whispers back. The front of his underwear is beginning to feel uncomfortable. He’s too tense, and the pressure’s not helping. He unbuttons the front of his jeans and does Johnny’s right after. Even through their boxers, the grind of their semis is like water on a hot day. Taeil throws his head back and whines. Johnny lets go of his ass to put both hands around his waist and he lets the motion of Taeil’s soft panting and stutters guide the pace.

“Can I take your shirt off?” Johnny pleads adoringly.

“Yeaah. Do it.” Somewhere in the back of Taeil’s mind, he recalls that they’re not exactly alone right now in the house, and still on the couch. Maybe Sicheng went to bed already. He wouldn’t come out now, would he? Not with all the noise they’re making?

Johnny swoops his shirt over his head in one motion, Taeil’s arms extending into the air. They land hard on Johnny’s shoulders as he sits upon his knees, pressing his erection into Johnny’s clothed stomach. Part of him wants to get off quick, let off the steam he’s been holding onto all week. Then later, later they can move to the bedroom and take it real slow. It doesn’t occur to him that Johnny has a different idea. Especially when they’re interrupted.

“Oh!” says a voice behind Taeil’s head. He freezes, and Johnny stops. He’s got Taeil’s pants already halfway down his backside and that, coupled with the fact he’s not wearing a shirt, sends out every warning bell Taeil’s ever had.

Sicheng is standing behind him, and Taeil is half naked on Johnny’s lap with his ass half on display, and a hard-on he can only pray is concealed by the angle.

And Sicheng’s voice is so low, it almost melts across the room. “Sorry. I didn’t… realize.”

Taeil pants into Johnny’s hair, face buried he’s so mortified, but his cock is still throbbing and there’s no way out of this until Sicheng decides to move.

“Uhm, sorry,” Johnny apologizes. Taeil can almost feel him smiling. “We can uhm, take this to the other room if it bothers you.”

Taeil wants to look, he really does. Is Sicheng still looking at them, is he looking away? Or is he making the same face he did last night when he thought Taeil wasn’t looking…

“I don’t mind.”

Taeil actually moans. That voice, that beautiful low voice, and he doesn’t sound scandalized. In fact, it sounds like… No, Taeil can’t think about it. Instead, he overcomes every instinct to keep his face hidden, relinquishes his body to that shuddering sensation he craves, and turns his head.

Sicheng catches his eyes in a heartbeat. And fuck, there’s that look again. The one Mark says is a glare, and the one Johnny says is lust. In this case, Johnny is clearly right. Taeil can’t even look away. He’s stricken dumb from the intensity of Sicheng’s gaze, sees the way the man presses his lips together, watches him gulp. Johnny takes that moment to glide his palm down Taeil’s back, all way the way to the curve of his ass, and then some.

Sicheng only looks away when Johnny’s fingers disappear down Taeil’s pants. And suddenly Taeil realizes what he’s been doing. Mortified, he feels the prickle of shame course through his body, head to toe, and his neck is burning a bright, brilliant red. He buries his head again against the cool of Johnny’s neck and tries to breathe. Barely hearing Sicheng’s rushed “Goodnight” and his retreating footsteps, Johnny holds his face, hands so gentle against his heated cheeks.

Taeil’s almost afraid to see that expression on Johnny’s face, but he forces himself to look. Sweat drops marr his forehead, and he’s breathing just as hard. But his eyes are full of the same lust, and he can surely feel what Taeil’s feeling: that he’s harder now that he was ten seconds ago.

“Babe, he definitely thinks you’re hot.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

It’s the following morning and as Taeil wakes up he already determines that he’s going to do the mature, adult thing and… avoid Sicheng as much as possible. It starts out pretty easy. His bed is empty, though Johnny’s imprint remains. Taeil scoots into the center of the mattress and steals all the pillows and pulls the blankets up high under his chin, going full fetal as he relishes the attempt at sleeping in.

Seven minutes later his alarm goes off, officially loud, officially annoying. And, because it’s a work day and Taeil doesn’t relish the idea of showing up to work late and/or hungry, he kicks off the covers, groans, and stands up. There are soft voices in the kitchen which Taeil steadfastly ignores. He grabs a mostly clean towel off the bathroom door and thrusts himself into the shower, washing his hair on autopilot. It only occurs to him as he’s turning off the water and drying his hair that the occurrence of soft voices means two people talking to each other. In this case, the only two persons can be Sicheng and Johnny.

Now that’s a mildly alarming thought. In spite of the fact, Johnny is at this point _slightly_ better at conversing with Sicheng than Taeil is, they usually don’t have much to say to one another.

So Taeil does the next mature thing and, stifling all guilt, sneaks out of the bathroom, tiptoes down the hallway and… listens.

Johnny is making some kind of soft chuckle, the kind he does which is just below a full laugh and right above breathing. Johnny makes it sound easy. Whenever Taeil expresses amusement that way people look at him funny.

The point of the matter _now_ is that Johnny is doing it with Sicheng. Who after a moment’s hush actually replies, “I didn’t mean to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“Nah man, I mean everyone was a little, but like I said, that’s okay. Honestly, I expected something like this to happen sooner.”

“What do you mean?”

“You like Taeil. It was bound to happen.”

Then Sicheng says something which is too low for Taeil to pick up, but also halfway like a squeak. Johnny’s low rumble laugh is back, the kind which is supposed to be comforting, and Taeil guesses might actually be making Sicheng freak out a little.

Taeil would do something about that, but from the moment Johnny said, ‘You like Taeil,’ he hasn’t been able to budge. He can feel his pulse in his fingers, the echo of his heart chamber, and that inhale he did just a second ago didn’t apparently send any oxygen to his lungs. It stops up in the back of his throat. He almost drops his towel before realizing that would be a bad idea. Tightening it around his waist he begins his retreat, successfully making it to his bedroom where he has to sit on his bed and force himself to breathe.

So, Sicheng likes him too?

And Johnny is what, playing matchmaker?

Too many expressions race through Taeil’s head, enough that he wastes another few minutes staring at his bedside clock waiting for the numbers to turn. It’s reassuring, also anxiety-inducing. The world is going on, and the clock still ticks yet Taeil is frantically immobile, doing nothing.

Outside this room, he gets the feeling his life hangs in the balance. And that’s too much to handle, especially without him getting a say in it.

He dresses eventually in his boring weekday work attire, then marches loudly down the hall, hoping to break up anything they might be saying and also announce his nonchalance. Like he doesn’t care if Johnny and Sicheng are talking about anything, even if it’s him.

“Morning,” says Johnny with a smile. He’s sipping on a mug of coffee which is such a rare sight in their house. It can only mean that someone actually dusted off the coffee pot and dug through enough pantry shelves to find the coffee grounds.

“You don’t usually drink coffee,” Taeil says to him, no filter to his mouth.

Johnny shrugs. “I felt like it today.”

A glance at Sicheng shows that man also imbibing. He clutches his mug tightly to his chest and he doesn’t quite make eye contact with Taeil, which makes two of them.

“Is there any more?” he asks.

“Half a pot left. Help yourself,” says Johnny.

As expected, it doesn’t taste the best, but it’s step up above convenience store coffee and not as expensive as what they serve in the cafe Taeil imprudently stops at most days on his way to work. He sits at the table, and the silence of the room is worrisome. Whatever happened to their conversation, their soft words of wisdom, Johnny’s low rumble? Are the three of them now completely incapable of holding a conversation, or is just Taeil’s presence?

“I think I’ll pick up breakfast on my way to work,” he says minutes later to break the awkwardness.

Johnny stands up quickly. “I’ll drive you. I brought my car.”

And just like that they leave Sicheng to his fate in an empty house, under half a pot of coffee left to drink.

  
  
  
  


“What was all that about?” Taeil asks, fifteen minutes later. They’re almost to the cafe near his workplace which is how Taeil expertly planned this. Barely a couple of minutes to talk to Johnny and if it gets too weird well, it’s not his fault he has to jump out of the car and run into the office.

“What was _what_ about?” says Johnny, a mite slow to reply.

Taeil exhales, his nerves on edge, and despite the fact he’s totally frustrated, he thinks he’s doing a good job of not showing it all at once. “Don’t do this to me, Johnny. I heard you talking to Sicheng.”

Johnny clears his throat. “Which… part?”

“I know that Sicheng likes me, but that’s about it. What I’m curious about is your angle in all this.”

“You think I have an angle?”

“Well, it’s been pretty clear to me recently that you either have an exhibitionist kink or you’re trying to pass me off to Sicheng, and honestly I’m less concerned with the first one as I am with the latter.”

Johnny grins. “You mean you _do_ like showing off?”

Against all odds, that makes Taeil laugh. “Johnnyyy~ Just tell me what you’re thinking?”

“Okay, so I’m not thinking much of anything right now except, it’s obvious you two like each other and/or you have some weird sexual tension going on. And you and I are still currently in an open relationship, so I thought… maybe we could have fun with that…”

He trails off just as Taeil’s mind explodes, and it takes a couple of moments before he can reply.

“Uhm, so that’s you not thinking about much. Interesting...”

What Taeil is actually thinking is a combination of ‘ _you like each other_ ’ ‘ _sexual tension_ ’ and ‘ _currently_ in an open relationship’.

Johnny doesn’t answer, but he does purse his lips and give Taeil one of those reassuring smiles, and right now it doesn’t work at all.

“This is my block, you can let me out here.”

Johnny pulls over to the right, stops beside the line of parked cars. Technically it’s not a place for stalling, but the traffic this morning is light, and something about Johnny’s attitude and the fact he’s not shooing Taeil quickly out of the car has Taeil rooted to his seat. He unbuckles the seatbelt and clutches his work bag, staring at the dashboard but not daring to move.

“Hey, Johnny?”

“Hmm?”

There’s this frantic urge to say what he’s actually thinking, share his fears, his worries, all the little insecurities that have been building up in his mind ever since he began to think about the Sicheng thing. There’s also the urge to just pack up and rush the sidewalk, which is such a Taeil move he’s almost too embarrassed to admit it. Taeil isn’t good dealing with issues head-on. He’d much rather put things off or ignore them, bury himself in his bed or dive too deep into work. He’s also not good creating words to speak about relationships, which is pretty much why he’s in this position in the first place—an open relationship he’s not one hundred percent okay with. And wow that’s the first time he’s actually told himself, even in his mind, that that’s how he feels!

He looks at Johnny, not daring to share all of that all at once. But Johnny’s wearing his uncomfortable look again, and Taeil wonders how much he suspects.

He speaks unhurriedly, “I just wanted to ask…” Taeil trails off. Johnny gives him a low hum of encouragement. “When you said, we could ‘have fun with that’...”

“Uh huh?”

“Did you mention something like that to Sicheng?”

It takes a second, but Johnny nods slowly, a low grumble of assent.

“What did he say about it?”

Johnny smiles, a little twist about his lips. “Strictly speaking he didn’t say _anything_ , but… he didn’t seem too averse to the idea. We’d have to talk about it some more of course.”

“Of course,” Taeil mimics. “That, that’s a good idea… I might be up for, _talking_ about it later.”

Johnny swings his head around, suddenly showing Taeil the full intensity of his gaze. “Really?”

Taeil bravely stares back. He’s seen that look before. It’s the earnest, hopeful, just a bit apprehensive, maybe even a little relieved. Taeil ignores the churning sensation of his stomach, no doubt just uncomfortable with the direct nature of this conversation. But in things like this, if not others, he and Johnny are on the same page. They don’t necessarily need to say aloud the possibility of Johnny and Sicheng sharing Taeil in bed.

It occupies his mind the whole rest of the day.

  
  


The rest of the week goes like how it normally does, a little of the mundane, a bit of work stress, some days more than a bit of work stress. At home, Taeil and Sicheng have come to a pseudo-reconciliation: no more staunch avoidance of the other. That doesn’t mean, however, that everything becomes immediately great. Taeil cooks a mediocre dinner and eats it long before Sicheng gets home; when Sicheng returns, Taeil warms up the leftovers. They hum at each other over the table while one peruses his phone and the other eats. Taeil could have gone to sleep an hour ago, and Sicheng knows it.

He pauses outside Taeil’s door where Taeil is busy rustling to prepare his things for the morning. Sicheng clears his throat. Taeil stops what he’s doing, straightens up and stares silently, awkwardly.

“Uhhmm,” Sicheng’s voice warbles. He clears his throat _again_. “Thank you for dinner? Goodnight.”

He’s long gone before Taeil’s smile unfolds, long gone with his door shut before Taeil actually makes a sound. A soft hint of astonished merriment.

In the morning Taeil checks the weather forecast and reminds Sicheng before he leaves to take an umbrella when he goes out. Sicheng’s confused, slightly sleepy face crinkles a bit before softening up. He blinks, mutters something non-descript, and this time he actually nods _and_ smiles!

Taeil takes that glimpse with him to work and it fuels him for the rest of the day, rain be damned.

Come weekend Taeil slips out in the morning to run errands, intending to pick up groceries on his way home. He texts Sicheng if there’s something he needs, gets a few items in reply, and comes home to find Sicheng watching the TV. Sicheng smiles at him gratefully and takes the bag Taeil offers. Their fingers touch, and if the moment isn’t exactly accompanied by sparks of love and excitement, Taeil swears it marks some kind of turning point in their relationship. He puts the groceries away and joins Sicheng on the other side of the couch, plenty of room in between them. Sicheng is on a Food Network binge today, which is a step up from murder mystery documentaries, and they pass the next few hours in a slightly awkward but not uncomfortable silence, watching shows together.

  
  


Unusual to his word, Johnny hasn’t brought up the topic they talked about. He and Taeil meet for lunch on a Monday, and the conversation includes everything _but_.

“You seen Yuta recently?” Johnny asks towards the end of their meal.

Taeil hums. “No, just the usual texts. Why?”

“Just curious about him and Taeyong.” Johnny frowns. “I talked to him a couple days ago and he seemed mildly panicked about how well it was going.”

“Panicked, like… how?”

Johnny shrugs. “Not entirely sure. He _does_ seem to like him a lot though. I mean, he didn’t exactly use the phrase ‘he’s the one’ but I could swear that’s what he’s thinking.”

“Ahhh,” says Taeil.

He has an inkling about the workings of Yuta’s brain, especially when it comes to relationships. Yuta isn’t the settling down kind of guy either, although unlike Johnny, it’s not because he doesn’t want to. Yuta desperately wants to, except his desires inevitably clash with an over-insistent personality that ‘everything is meant to be’ to the point he frightens off his paramours. The last serious relationship he was in was a boy named Hansol. Before that a girl whose name Taeil can’t remember. In between, before, and after each one, were a string of acquaintances or one night stands, hookups Yuta initiated to console himself while he berated his tendency to, in his words, “fuck up everything.”

“Maybe I’ll talk to him this week,” Taeil adds. Not that he’ll have any input. Taeil is the furthest thing to being an expert at relationships. He wouldn't even have talked to Johnny the first time they met were it not for… well, actually, Yuta and Johnny.

The bill arrives and Taeil snatches it. “My treat,” he says quickly before Johnny can lodge a complaint.

Hands in surrender, the man Taeil can’t quite consider his boyfriend but is happy for anyways, replies, “I’ll buy you a coffee around the corner. And maybe dinner this weekend?”

“You’re on.”

  
  
  


It’s still Friday afternoon when Taeil bumps into Mark in the break room. He’s emptying out his little packet of instant coffee, eyes on the hot water machine when the younger man strides through the room. Taeil nods at him. Mark doesn't dress any more fashionably than Taeil, but the same clothes on Taeil make Mark actually look kind of chic. He stifles a sigh of regret that some kids really do just have it all.

They exchange pleasantries of the usual jist.

“Getting that last bit of caffeine for the final hour?” says Mark.

“Yup. Fridays do go slower than the usual workday.”

“That’s the truth. Any plans for the weekend?”

“Nothing crazy.” That might as well be Taeil’s motto.

Then the pleasantries dwindle away. In the few years, they’ve worked for the same company, Taeil only really knows Mark through break room interactions such as these. And the occasional co-workers’ lunch. Sometimes, at a company party they meet near the bar and nod to each other a few times. Taeil knows that Mark is still single, something of a workaholic, and still lives with his aging, ailing dad. He’s twenty-four, and it’s his first stable job, he doesn’t rock the boat, although his best friend here _is_ Donghyuck, which is pretty wild all things considered.

Taeil also recalls that horribly awkward exchange several weeks ago where Mark tried to console Taeil about the Sicheng situation.

_“I mean, we don’t think he hates you, we just don’t think he… likes you very well?”_

Right now though Taeil ony smirks, glad for once that Mark’s (and apparently everyone’s) instincts are almost definitely wrong. It makes him feel older, wiser. He’d say superior, but then Mark does dress more handsomely than Taeil, and his hair looks one hundred percent better, curse the youths these days.

But never mind that, Johnny was right, and Mark and Donghyuck and everyone else he works with is wrong. Which reminds Taeil again about that _thing_ he and Johnny, and apparently Sicheng, are supposed to talk about.

He flushes a deep red.

“Hey, man, you okay? Was the water too hot?”

Taeil gulps and takes _another_ sip of his too hot coffee to cover his embarrassment. “What? I’m fine,” he says through stuttering breaths.

Mark smiles and nudges him on the shoulder companionably. Then his phone chirps in his pocket and the moment is lost. Taeil finds a blessed window to stare through for a few silent minutes, leaving Mark to answer whoever’s text on his phone. He shouldn’t be panicking, there’s no reason to be panicking. He and Johnny haven’t talked about anything so far, and there’s been no real development with him and Sicheng other than it’s more obvious they don’t dislike each other. He’s going out to eat tonight with Johnny, and that’s normal. That’s blissfully normal.

Except when he thinks about everything all at once, he realizes there’s absolutely nothing normal about any of this. He’s dating Johnny, but he _could_ date someone else, and he knows for a fact that Johnny’s hooked up with any number of guys over the last year, no one serious. He doesn’t mention them by name to Taeil, barely refers to them in the abstract as a courtesy. And Taeil appreciates it, he really does. That’s the agreement they made, and that’s what makes _any_ discussion with or about Sicheng possible.

Only for a week now, maybe longer, Taeil’s been edging between the excitement of gaining something new, and maybe losing something old.

  


At a quarter to five, Taeil gets a text from Johnny with a time for their reservation later. That makes just enough time to go home, relax for a bit, and clean up before Johnny promises to swing by and pick him up.

What’s mildly strange when Taeil gets home is to find Sicheng already there. Taeil checks his phone clock, wondering if he lost an hour—or two or three—in the commute. Sicheng is never home this early. Nor is he usually wandering around the house looking this discomposed, or half dressed. Taeil meets him in the hallway wearing a deep blue button-up shirt, unbuttoned, untucked, sockless and looking frazzled.

They freeze at the sight of each other, Taeil in shock. Sicheng’s eyes widen before softening to a state of resignation.

“Are… you okay?” Taeil asks.

He nods after a missed second. “Y-yes. I’m… I’m late. And...” His hands sweep over his outfit.

Taeil smiles with only half his face. “You going out?”

Sicheng nods again. “With Yuta!” he suddenly says, almost defensively. “And, some other friends. Just friends.”

“Ahh, I see. Uhm. Do you need some help?”

Taeil doesn’t see how he could help. Clearly, he’s no fashion expert, especially not to Yuta’s standards. The offer is out of his mouth though before he can stop himself, and besides, Sicheng won’t take him up on it, right-

“Sure, yes, maybe. Please.”

And now Taeil knows he’s in trouble. He hesitates, a reply stuttering around in his mouth before wordlessly asking which way Sicheng’s going. To the bathroom, to his room, to the kitchen, who even knows what he’s doing right now. Fortunately, Sicheng moves, towards his room, and Taeil follows him. On his bed are a couple of ties, several different color shirts, and a wrinkled pair of pants, probably the rejects Sicheng already tried on and then discarded. Currently, he’s wearing dark jeans which Taeil has to admit _look good_.

“Do you need a tie?” is the first thing he asks.

Sicheng shrugs. “Maybe?”

“You don’t happen to know where you’re going, do you?”

At this, he shakes his head. Taeil chews on his lower lip, barely stopping himself from wringing his hands and giving up. “Uhm, well I’m no Yuta so I probably can’t tell you what he’d like.”

Sicheng smiles. “That’s, that’s okay, I think.”

And then, Sicheng surprises him with what’s likely the first fully formed question Taeil’s ever gotten from him.

“Just… maybe, what, what kind of clothes do you think look good?”

Taeil gulps. “On you?”

“On me.” He stares back at Taeil, eyes wide in anticipation, almost if he’s shocked at his own question, or at least by Taeil’s sudden, newfound intensity.

Because now this has Taeil looking at him like he’s never looked before. Imagining things, imagining crazy things. Like Sicheng in a suit, that time he went for an interview. Sicheng in a pair of sweatpants and a casual T-shirt, maybe falling off the shoulder like those pajamas he wears most mornings. Sicheng with just that towel around his waist, and nothing else that night Taeil really got a glimpse of what Sicheng might be thinking.

Unfortunately, these ideas are probably not what Sicheng’s asking for. Right now Sicheng has limited options and Taeil has no taste for accessories.

“I think you look good already.”

The answers stretch out, enveloping the room, the space between them. Somewhere in the moment, Taeil realizes he can’t even look him directly in the face. His gaze wanders instead to his collarbones, to the swath of skin on display between the loosely hanging folds of his shirt.

“Really?” asks Sicheng, sounding breathless.

Taeil can only nod in reply. He takes a step towards him, then pauses. What exactly is he doing anyway? Sicheng is frozen in place, still staring at him, seemingly more bold than Taeil. Eventually his hands move and he looks down, fingers fumbling at the buttons. Taeil’s fingers twitch too, but he doesn’t dare move. He looks away, waiting.

Sicheng hums to get his attention again, and this time when Taeil looks, he’s no longer exposed anywhere. His hands are pulling out of his jeans, the shirt properly tucked. However,  his collar is still crooked. That pulls a wry smile to his face, but Sicheng’s expression immediately falls.

“What’s the matter?”

Taeil points at his own collar. Sicheng just stares.

“Your... your…” Taeil points at his. Sicheng still doesn’t move, his confusion growing. So Taeil steps towards him, one hand outstretched. He means to just adjust the collar. The fabric is barely creased at a strange angle. He doesn’t expect it to feel so _soft_ , and his fingers remain a fragment too long.

He stares at the collar, not daring to look anywhere else. If he moves his head he’ll be staring right into Sicheng’s face.

“Taeil?” says Sicheng suddenly, voice a whisper. Taeil holds his breath. Rarely has he heard Sicheng actually say his name out loud. And following that stunning pronouncement, Sicheng’s hand comes up to meet his.

Taeil startles. His head darts up. Sicheng’s eyes are lowered, gaze on his eyes, nose, lips. The palm of his hand is nearly as soft as his shirt, that Taeil stifles the shiver threatening to come over his body.

He can’t remember who makes the first move after that, only that it happens. He sees in slow motion Sicheng’s eyelashes flutter shut, feels the slow movement of their bodies, shuffling off balance, bending towards the other. Their kiss is barely there. But what  _is_ there is perfect, soft, and beautiful. Taeil’s hand falls to his shoulder, his other dangles mid-air, itching to do something, to touch, to hold.

Sicheng does it first. He holds Taeil’s hand softly against his collar, and the other touches him gently along the waist, not pushing, almost tentative. Taeil remembers to breathe. He pulls away only slightly, inhaling a steady stream of air, intending to move in again.

But then it ends.

From the other room comes the sound of the front door slamming open, a strong voice announcing, “Honey, I’m home!”

Sicheng pulls back as if he’d been burned. Taeil stumbles, then rights himself. In a daze, he realizes what happened, what had been happening. Johnny is chuckling to himself at his joke, oblivious to the two in Sicheng’s room. Taeil can’t even think about him right now. Sicheng looks terrified. He steadily backs away, like he can’t believe they did that. His hand strafes his neck nervously. Suddenly he looks at the clock, then gasps, and dives for his shoes.

“I have to… I have to go…” he babbles.

Taeil comes lurching back to reality. “What, Sicheng, wait.”

But Sicheng is shaking his head. “I have to go. I’m late. I’m… sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“You didn’t mean, what? Sicheng, wait, please.”

He reaches out, captures nothing but air, but Sicheng pauses nonetheless. His face is a myriad of emotions, mostly terror. But there’s enough of him in there to slow down for one, blissful second.

“Later… later, we can… I have to go. Please.”

And then he’s gone.

Taeil feels like a different person entirely, like he’s out of body. He hears Sicheng march down the hallway, hears a confused greeting from Johnny, Sicheng’s hastily responded reply. Then the door slams shut, and there’s silence.

Half a minute later, Taeil comes out of the room. Johnny stares at him, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Taeil? I just saw Sicheng running away… he was, wasn’t he?”

Johnny looks amazing tonight. He’s dressed up fancy, hair slicked back, lip gloss shimmering against his frown.

Taeil can only stare at him dazed. “He did, didn’t he…”

Johnny slowly smiles. “Something happen?”

And Taeil nods. That’s what honesty is all about, right?

“Something good? Something bad?”

“Something, I don’t know. He… Sicheng, he kissed me.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: the first scene contains *gasps* sex 
> 
> I cranked most of this out in a couple sittings this week. Apologies for the long wait, and it's also a bit shorter than other chapters. I have only SIX WEEKS to go before this baby is supposed to come out (via C-Section) so I'm starting to feel the pressure. My poor fics! When will I have time to write you after this baby arrives?!

This probably makes Taeil a terrible person, but he’s probably not supposed to be thinking about another man, when he’s ass deep buried in another. 

If anyone asks, not that they ever do, but if they  _ did _ ask what part of Johnny Taeil likes the best, he’d said it’s Johnny’s thighs. Johnny’s thighs came to his attention approximately ten seconds after Taeil saw his face. And originally Taeil pretended to ignore the attraction because Johnny was just another of Yuta’s friends who always seemed to come and go in wavering circles, here and there and gone again, at least from Taeil’s perspective. Except five seconds after Taeil noticed Johnny’s thighs in those skin tight, form fitting jeans, that beautiful tapering from ass to ankle, Johnny noticed Taeil noticing. 

Ever since then, Johnny likes to indulge him. 

It’s why, not even five hours after Sicheng and Taeil kissed, four hours since he left his house to go on a date with Johnny, and one hour after finishing their dinner, he finds himself sprawled over the other man’s bed, ass deep as before mentioned. The logistics of the matter haven’t escaped him at all. Johnny hides his face in the pillows, back arched with the imprint of Taeil’s fingers along his waistline. His knees are up, and his cock swings heavily between them, jolted by the rhythm of Taeil’s body, every time he pulls out, every time he slams back in. 

Taeil’s body is starting to tire, but he’s close. So very _ close _ …   There’s the telltale pull in his gut, that tightening from within. Sweet mars his brow and the back of his neck, his hands even where they struggle to keep purchase on Johnny’s waist. He lets go for a moment, stopping the momentum and leaving them connected. He wipes his hands on the sheets below, one at a time so he doesn’t fall forward. Johnny stutters, a grunt of protest just dangling from his lips. 

“Roll over,” he says, pulling out completely. 

Johnny exhales shakily, but he obliges. And in the near darkness of the room, Taeil imagines for one seconds that it’s Sicheng lying there instead. Just for a second. Then he’s back to admiring Johnny’s lean, muscular body. The kind a man gets only from a lifetime of upkeep. He’s no body builder, but Johnny works out, and fuck if that isn’t something Taeil likes to appreciate. He runs trembling hands from his knees down along the outside of Johnny’s legs, taking it slow, one leg at a time until his fingers meet at the waistline again, thumbs inching toward the groin. 

Johnny’s head pops up and he’s biting his own lip in agonizing anticipation. He whines again, and lets his head fall heavily back. That’s when Taeil slowly draws his hands inward, massaging the inside of his thighs, working Johnny’s ego, and his cock which drips down onto his navel. 

Johnny’s words are barely coherent. “You gonna... f-finish this anytime... soon?” he pants. 

Taeil smiles, even though it goes unseen. He’s always liked how they are together in bed. Johnny plays a tough game, acting impatient, impulsive. When they first started sleeping together Taeil was genuinely intimidated. He did just the things Johnny asked him to do, and nothing else. Over the last year, however, he’s learned a thing or two. By which he means, Johnny talks big, but he likes to be teased. 

He wonders what Sicheng would be like. Is he the silent kind of lover, or overly expressive? Demanding, or impassive? Full of contradictions, like Johnny, or straight forward? 

And honestly, Taeil is a little scared of knowing those answers. Life is easy right now, just like it is. He’s got Johnny, and they’re  _ so good _ together. Why should ever complicate anything, why when it’s so good like this he gets to stroke Johnny’s cock, ever so softly, ever so tantalizingly slow. Just the pace that keeps Johnny on edge that he doesn’t notice Taeil coaxing his legs up and his knees apart. 

The gasp he makes when Taeil surprises him is worth everything. Taeil plunges in without warning, finally ready to ‘finish’ as Johnny so wanted. His heart beats hard, his breath comes up short. His thigh muscles are positively aching, but Johnny is coming in his hand and clamping down around Taeil’s cock, and it’s enough,  _ damn _ is it enough to have Taeil coming hard into the condom, buried so deep within. 

He doesn't go home that night. There seems no point, not even after he’s showered and thrown on a shirt far too big for his frame, and crawled back into Johnny’s bed. Johnny is halfway asleep, but he curls towards Taeil as if seeking his warmth. Taeil closes his eyes, basking in an afterglow that doesn’t diminish. Johnny smells like sweat; Taeil doesn’t mind. It’s comfortable, and warm. Johnny’s never actually thrown him out. They’ll wake in the morning probably on opposite sides of the bed with the covers a mess, pillows on the floor, because inevitably Johnny thrashes in his sleep, but somehow Taeil always sleeps through it. 

He’s never before thought of their relationship having a time limit. Not even when they set the terms of their parameters. Taeil persuaded himself all that non-exclusive talk walk freeing in its own kind of way. Taeil and Johnny, two people free to love just as they willed. To love each other, and whatever else beside. 

It wasn’t supposed to be scary. It wasn’t supposed to be this unnerving. The thoughts that maybe Johnny would move on and find someone else he preferred to be with more. That Taeil might also do the same. That  _ this _ , this thing they have between them, could possibly end one day—Taeil is always the one burying these fears. When, when does he need to actually face them? 

  
  
  


The rest of the weekend passes as it normally does. Taeil gets home mid-morning on Saturday to an empty house. The only sign that Sicheng returned before him is a single rinsed, but dirty plate in the sink from his breakfast. Taeil left the kitchen last night in pristine condition. He can only assume that Sicheng has disappeared off to his usual affairs: part-time work, or the ‘auditions’ he shows up at just to get his name out there. 

Taeil’s not a dancer, and he doesn’t know anything about the life of a dancer, but he  _ does _ know it’s hard to make a solid living as one. He’ll leave his co-workers, all of Yuta’s extended friend circles, to make their assumptions as to what Sicheng is doing with his life. But Taeil’s been paying attention now for a good solid few weeks. He knows Sicheng wants to remain in the dance sphere, but not necessarily as a performer. And truth be told, it makes Taeil kind of shudder, in a good way, to imagine Sicheng in all his intensity working as an instructor, a choreographer. Can practically  _ see  _ him backstage in casual clothing, striking fear into the hearts many. Goodness knows he used to do that to Taeil himself. 

For the remainder of the day, Taeil bums around doing nothing much of anything. A little laundry, a little list making for the groceries he gets on Sunday. He answers a couple bizarre texts from Yuta, and it’s in the middle of a brief conversation about Taeyong that Yuta mentions he’s going out tonight with the man in question, and that Johnny will probably be there. So will Ten. Ten’s been tasking about Johnny. It seems they have hung out before. 

The texting bubble appears again and Taeil’s hand freezes, waiting for the inevitable question. 

::  _ want to come along? _ ::

Taeil puts his phone down. Picks it up a few seconds later. 

Puts it down again. 

He goes to the bathroom, washes his hands, and then runs a hand through his hair, examining his face in the mirror. His skin isn’t perfect, when has it ever been perfect? He frowns at some of his discoloring, a few old acne scars, the barely peeling skin of his forehead. Johnny never mentions it. Yuta frequently chides him for not having a better skin care regimen. It’s a sobering couple of minutes while Taeil preens at himself, doing and resolving nothing. Then he replies. 

::  _ probably not. Been a long week. Gonna rest _ . :: 

  
  
  


Sicheng gets home well after dinnertime. Taeil looks up from some cheap fantasy novel he’s been halfway snoozing through. He waves. Sicheng acknowledges him for five slow seconds, and waves back. He looks tired, and there are dark circles under his eyes. His expression is bland, almost non-existent, just like the Sicheng Taeil has come to know. Taeil smiles, Sicheng does not. But he does grunt. It’s the kind of sound one makes when they’re aware someone is around them but with whom they haven’t the energy to deal. Then he disappears down the hallway and enters his room. 

Taeil sighs. It seems nothing is going go happen fast with Sicheng, in spite of yesterday’s events. 

He recalls the shocked, scared look on Sicheng’s face when Johnny came into the house. If nothing else, that spoke volumes about Sicheng’s indecision. His actions versus his words, his promises. 

“ _ I’m… sorry, I didn’t mean- _

_ “Later… later, we can… I have to go. Please.”  _

Honestly, Taeil isn’t surprised. If either one of them were halfway as forward as practically anyone else they mutually know, they might have been dating already. At the very least they’d be having civilized conversations on the regular. Taeil’s not going to pretend he’s any better at communication than Sicheng is. He’s equally at fault here. 

Nearly twenty minutes pass in silence before Sicheng comes out from his room. Taeil doesn’t look up, but he feels the shift of the couch cushions when Sicheng sits down. Only then does he slowly close his book and set it aside. 

Sicheng is observing him with a wary face, the corner of his lip caught between his teeth. Taeil struggles to meet his gaze, but he knows without a doubt that this here is the reckoning point. 

“How was your day?” he asks, trying to sound casual. 

Sicheng releases his lip, unclenching his jaw and moving it around a little. He looks down at some nondescript part of the couch and nods. 

“It was okay. Yours?”

Taeil hums. “It was, fine. I did laundry.” He smiles and shrugs. Internally he’s cringing. 

Sicheng nods again, contemplative. “I need to do that too,” he says, as if agreeing. Like Taeil has his entire life strategy figured out and Sicheng should jump on that wagon. Taeil’s still wondering what to say next when Sicheng preempts him. “Did you eat dinner?”

“Just a sandwich a few hours ago. You?”

Sicheng winces. He looks nervous again. “I ate some seaweed chips as a snack. No dinner though.” 

Taeil quickly contemplates his next maneuver. Does he offer to make him a sandwich or does he-

But Sicheng is speaking again, still acting nervous. “Do you… want to go find something to eat? With me?” His eyes don’t exactly meet Taeil’s. 

“You mean like, g-go out?” Taeil almost falters. He’s trying hard not to panic. But it’s clear Sicheng is about to, regardless of what Taeil says or does. 

“You don’t have to!” he responds quickly. “I- I can just find something to eat here so-”

“No, no, that’s okay! I can… we can, do that. If, you want to. I mean, I’ll go with you. I didn’t eat that much. I can definitely eat again, if… yeah.”

A minute later, Sicheng climbs into the passenger seat of Taeil’s old, ratty car. Taeil starts the engine and except for for the vehicle’s excessive motor sounds, it’s silent. He takes off in the direction of the nearest restaurants and food stalls, and their only conversation for the convening minutes come in the form of hums and grunts, Sicheng occasionally pointing at an intersection until he spots an appetizing spot. Taeil lets him pick. He stops the car a few storefronts over from a noodle place and follows Sicheng inside. 

Taeil’s never felt less like he was on a date than he does right now. The restaurant is brightly lit, but the furniture is cheap and battered, the waitstaff slow. A couple larger families argue over their meals in the center of the room. Nobody notices them walking past to a booth along the back wall, right next to the kitchen door. 

“I come here sometimes,” Sicheng says finally, like an apology. He’s looking around the place too, probably imagining how it looks to Taeil, and finding new fault. “The food is good though.” 

Taeil nods and reaches for a menu. “That’s good. It smells good.” 

As it turns out, Sicheng is right. The restaurant must put all their expense in to the food, not into the veneer of the place. Taeil orders the same thing as Sicheng, and for most of the meal they labor through an awkward affair of smalltalk. Taeil’s been like this before, with every new friend or acquaintance he’s ever made. Typically he relies on the other person, but with Sicheng it’s just so  _ hard _ . Sicheng isn’t a school mate Taeil can live without if they don’t hit it off in the first twenty minutes. He isn’t a co-worker where, theoretically, it doesn’t matter if they become friends or not because that’s not how the job works, and it’s not that important. Sicheng is his housemate, he’s not an acquaintance, he’s not just another of Yuta’s friends. 

He’s someone Taeil likes, and someone, if Taeil understands everything correctly, might miraculously like him back. 

So maybe that’s why he’s so disappointed at the end of their meal, when it seems no progress has been made. Twenty four hours ago, plus some time, they were kissing in Sicheng’s bedroom. Now, they return to Taeil’s car in silence, and Taeil feels like he’s failed. 

He can’t immediately turn on the engine. The keys lay heavy in his palm, sweat transferring from his skin to the metal. He’s resisting the urge to sigh, striving to put on a brave face and drive them home. The sooner that happens the sooner he can make it to his bed and mope for the rest of the night, maybe through the next day too. And assuming Yuta never finds out, he and Sicheng can put this whole thing behind them. Taeil will talk to Johnny about never bringing it up again, and his life will go on the way it was before… before he realized just how  _ much _ he wanted to like and be liked by Sicheng. 

He gets the keys all the way into the ignition when Sicheng speaks. 

“I’m… sorry,” he says. 

Taeil pauses, then slowly cranes his head to look at him. “Huh? For… for what?”

Sicheng is looking at his hands which are bunched up in his lap. “For, this. I’m not, I’m not really good with people. Talking to people. Especially to people that I… that I like.” 

It’s an all too familiar feeling. And for Taeil, he feels unburdened. He takes his keys back out, lays them on his lap. The beginnings of a smile crinkle around his lips. 

“Then… then I guess we have something in common.” 

He looks straight at Sicheng, willing him to look back. He does, and Taeil sees in his face a mirror image. Sicheng’s cheeks are pink with flush, eyes apologetic but full of uncertain hope. And Taeil gets this crazy urge to reach out. He wants to touch him, feel something tangible. Enough of the looking, and their sad, hesitant words. It seems they understand each other anyway in spite of that. 

Unlike his own hand, Sicheng’s is warm. Taeil doesn’t hold it tight, but squeezes just enough to get a reciprocated pressure. Only then does he release it. Sicheng is looking away again, straight as through the dashboard, but there’s a soft smile around his lips. On that note, Taeil starts the car and drives them home. This time the silence isn’t oppressive. It’s comfortable, wholesome. He even turns on some music and indicates for Sicheng to change the station to whatever he likes. Sicheng finds a nice pop ballad, the kind Taeil would sing along to if he was alone in the car. 

But no, he’s not that comfortable with Sicheng yet. Maybe, maybe another day. 

  
  
  


Sunday morning finds Taeil about his usual activities. He and Sicheng eat a small breakfast across from each other at the table. The chitchat is a little more relevant, with Sicheng explaining part of his day’s schedule. On Taeil’s side, he shares how he’s due to meet his mother for lunch. They shower one after another, and Sicheng actually tells him goodbye before grabbing his shoulder bag and disappearing out the door. 

To another person’s eyes it would seem nothing has changed between them. But Taeil knows. And he knows Sicheng knows. 

He can’t keep from smiling throughout the day. His mother questions him over lunch, asking him about that nice boyfriend of his, Johnny. Not even that puts a damper on Taeil’s mood. Johnny’s not exactly a meet-the-mother kind of guy but they have occasionally bumped into one another, just enough to make her suspicious and for Taeil to share at least half the truth. 

Mid-afternoon it seems like Yuta’s finally awake. He sends picture after picture of the night before, mostly of him and Taeyong getting cozy, a couple of Johnny, even one of Ten and Johnny, looking rather comfortable with each other. Taeil fights a soft wave of bitterness before tossing it aside. He definitely doesn’t regret not going out with them last night. 

By dinnertime Sicheng actually texts Taeil to ask if he can bring something home to eat. Taeil stares at the message too long before replying affirmatively. The history of messages between them on his phone is sparse indeed, barely a couple dozen texts since Sicheng moved in, all impersonal. Most date back from the first couple weeks when they were still working out the logistics of rent, fridge sharing, and the like. Taeil smiles looking at this most recent exchange, the first that shows even the tiniest hint they might become something better than friends. 

He jumps up when the door knob turns, ready to spring, to greet Sicheng, to resume whatever nondramatic conversation they’d started hours earlier at the breakfast table. 

But when the door opens, he’s met with Sicheng’s old, frozen expression. There’s a bag of takeout in his arms, his shoulder bag slouching down his elbow from the weight, and a second body behind him. 

Taeil takes the takeout wordlessly as Sicheng passes the threshold, also silently shocked by the hulking figure of a mildly intoxicated Johnny standing in the doorway. 

“Babe, what’s up! I met Sicheng coming up the sidewalk. Don’t worry, I already ate dinner so I won’t steal any of yours.” As he steps inside, one of his arms finds its way around Taeil’s waist, drawing him in, and Taeil doesn’t move when Johnny leans over to give him a huge smack on the lips. Before he’s even registered Sicheng disappearing down the hallway, Johnny closes the door and looks around. “Was I bothering anything? Hey, what are you guys up to tonight?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm also getting terrible at replying to comments, but please leave a msg here if you liked the chapter, or on my [CC](https://curiouscat.me/ShineALightRose)!


	5. Chapter 5

“You don’t usually drink like this,” says Taeil curiously, following Johnny through the house. They come to a halt at the kitchen table. Johnny sits before Taeil’s even set down the takeout bag. He’s listening for Sicheng but doesn’t hear a thing. 

“Yeah, I don’t.” Johnny groans. Both elbows come to rest on the table, palms up to cradle his face. Taeil gets a brief image of the crown of Johnny’s head, hair a little greasy, strands of black falling forward in every which way. His voice comes out muffled as he explains. “Try telling that to Yuta though.”

“Yuta?” Taeil exclaims. “I was just texting with him like five hours ago.”

“Yeah, well he was fine five hours ago.  _ Two _ hours ago, however, he had another minor freakout.”

“About Taeyong?” Taeil guesses. 

Johnny nods into his hands. Eventually, his head pops up. He stares at the unopened takeout, then peruses the room. “Where’d Sicheng go?”

Taeil shrugs, but he’s loathe to change the subject now. 

“You didn’t drive here, right?” 

Johnny grins. “Like hell, I would. Don’t worry, I took a cab. Figured I might as well get out early and come to your place. Sober myself up.”

“You came here, to me, to sober up. Is that some kind of weird Johnnyesque compliment?”

Johnny snorts. Taeil smiles in spite of the atmosphere. He ought to be more concerned about Sicheng. Scratch that, he  _ is  _ more concerned about Sicheng, but in true Taeil fashion, Taeil doesn’t exactly know how to go about rectifying whatever it is Johnny may have messed up. 

Taeil stares at the takeout. It looks completely untouched, aroma of noodles and sauces, freshly steamed rice permeating the air. 

Johnny says it before Taeil can make up his mind. “Hey, shouldn’t you go find Sicheng? I’m guessing he didn’t bring this home just to dump it and leave.”

“Ahh, yes. Good idea.” Taeil is grateful for the reprieve. 

He knocks gently on Sicheng’s bedroom door, whispering his name uncertainly into the door hinge. Moments later, it opens. Sicheng doesn’t speak for half a second; his face looks all kinds of tortured. Something clenches unhappily in Taeil’s gut, rendering him speechless. His lips open and close, until finally he gulps. Sicheng finally says, “What?”

Taeil fumbles his next words. “Uhm, takeout? Aren’t you going t-to eat?” 

The anguish on Sicheng’s face flattens into nothingness. He cocks his head. “Oh, right. One minute.” He closes the door. 

Back at the table, Taeil finds Johnny squinting at him. His head is down on the table, cradled by one arm, half his face obscured and he looks seconds from passing out. 

“Lie down if you’re going to sleep,” says Taeil. 

Johnny groans and doesn’t move. “Maybe.”

“Lie down,” Taeil insists. 

“In your bed?’ Johnny grins. 

Taeil smiles. “Where else? Go.”  

He and Sicheng pass each other in the hall. Johnny gives him half of a sleepy wave, Sicheng moves aside so they don’t collide. Taeil holds his breath and braces himself for… something. Anything. Instead, Sicheng sits at the table and in silence, they divide up the meal. In silence, they eat. 

One month ago this would have been completely normal. Tonight, Taeil only feels tension. 

Johnny is indeed passed out when Taeil checks on him later. He’s barely removed his sweater and belt which are draped along the bottom of Taeil’s comforter. His head is buried in Taeil’s pillow, on the side where he usually sleeps, when he sleeps over. It hits Taeil hard, all of a sudden. Johnny has a  _ side.  _  Johnny, who is not Taeil’s boyfriend, but who acts like it anyway. Johnny, who Taeil isn’t even thinking about right now. He should be thinking about him. Instead, all he sees is that haunting look in Sicheng’s eyes, like Taeil has done something wrong. 

But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Taeil hasn’t done something wrong. It’s that he hasn’t done anything at all. 

He sits on the corner of the bed, fretting, listening to Johnny’s soft snores. Johnny isn’t a terribly deep sleeper, but he has perfected the doze. The fact Taeil knows this too bothers him. It paralyzes him, and so he sits. Arms slightly behind his hips, shoulders hunched over, head angled downward, facing the door. 

So he sees when Sicheng walks into view, sees him stop, and freeze. Taeil looks up. 

Sicheng isn’t looking at him like he was before, at dinner. In fact, he acts totally different from anything Taeil has seen. There’s a hard squint to his face as he bites the corner of his lip, eyes piercing, determined. 

Taeil gapes at him, mouth open, and he thinks he hasn’t ever seen Sicheng look this possibly hot. 

“S-Sicheng?” he says warily. 

Then Sicheng steps through the door. He looks over Taeil’s shoulder at the sleeping Johnny, but that doesn’t stop him. Instead, he ambles right in between Taeil’s parted legs. Then he kisses him. 

Taeil has always known Sicheng wasn’t good with words. Call it a shared trait, and the reason for this entire situation, but Sicheng just  _ isn’t good with words _ . Which is why his actions speak louder than words. And his kiss says more than Taeil’s ever heard. There’s uncertainty in it, but also longing, a craving Taeil has never felt before, either on his own or reciprocated. Mostly it’s boldness, the whole outrageous truth. Johnny is snoozing right next to them on the bed, but the way Sicheng ignores him, the way his lips curve around Taeil’s mouth, the way the velvety pads of his fingertips glide over Taeil’s neck,  _ that  _ says more than words could ever. 

Taeil parts his lips, welcoming the intrusion, as his body begins to tip backward, Sicheng climbing onto the bed after him. His head hits the mattress with a soft thump and his eyes nearly roll right back into his skull, breath caught in his chest. He forces himself to open them, forces himself to look at Sicheng, really  _ look _ at him. He’s hovering over Taeil’s chest, lashes downcast, mouth parted and chest heaving, an expression that looks part stunned part determined. The hesitation on his face is agony. Taeil does the only thing his body knows. He pushes his hips up. 

Sicheng shudders, slinks down on top of him, and once again their lips connect. Everything about this is awkward and gangly. Taeil’s hands flex against themselves as he decides where to put them. On Sicheng’s back, or on his nape? His legs splay outward, but his jeans catch on the comforter, tugging at the symmetry of the entire bedspread, Johnny included. At the same time, however, Sicheng is a heavyweight in his lap and that’s not something Taeil is inclined to give up. He settles for two hands around his waist where Sicheng’s shirt has ridden up, and Taeil gets his first taste of  _ skin _ . 

That triggers every impulse to continue, clothes, bedspread, Johnny be damned. He moans loud and deep, knees coming up around Sicheng’s thin body, and this time the friction in there. Sicheng isn’t wearing more than his jogging pants and maybe a thin pair of briefs. He’s not hard yet, but that doesn’t matter. Taeil’s brain flips a switch, and his hands splay lower, fingers edging at the band of elastic plastered to Sicheng’s back. 

There’s a moment where Taeil thinks, this is what they were always coming to. From the day Sicheng moved in, their first encounter, two shy pairs of eyes meeting at a distance; to all those lonely months dancing around each other. The days Taeil thought Sicheng disliked him, up to the moment when Johnny said, ‘Babe, haven’t you noticed?’ 

Taeil never had noticed, and hindsight is a bitch, but with Sicheng now cozied up on top of him, sucking his way down Taeil’s jawline, it’s like the last few months don’t exist. All there is is now, and Sicheng, and the warmth in his gut, the heat of another body, their breaths intermingled, fast and shallow. 

And Johnny. No longer asleep Johnny. 

Taeil hears his exhale before he turns to look. There’s a part of him that wants to freeze, stop everything and… he doesn't know what. Apologize? 

Johnny is the one who said Sicheng liked him, that Sicheng maybe  _ more  _ than liked him. He predicted this whole thing. And Taeil finds he really doesn’t  _ want  _ to stop.

Following that exhale, he hears Johnny suck in another breath before whispering a low “Fuck me…” 

Taeil feels Sicheng still for half a second, another dose of that hesitation, maybe even fear. Taeil is getting good at recognizing it. The time Sicheng first kissed him, and then Johnny showed up. Earlier this evening. Sicheng is exactly the kind of person to work up a certain amount of courage and then lose it halfway through. Taeil ought to recognize it. He does the same thing himself. But not this time. He pushes his hips up again and tightens his hold on Sicheng’s waist. It has the effect he wants. Sicheng’s lips edge into a smile right at the base of Taeil’s throat as they melt together. 

Johnny looks half awake, maybe a little bit stunned, but not in the least putout. Taeil meets his gaze for a shy moment, feeling a blush build from his cheeks practically all the way to his toes. Johnny’s eyes are hooded, aroused, and then Taeil can’t look anymore. He hears rather than sees the other man shift on the bed. The mattress dips like a wave. 

Before he knows it, there’s a hand traveling down his stomach. Taeil sucks in unconsciously. Another gasp leaves his throat. Sicheng, without even moving his lips from Taeil’s throat, is kneading his dick, fumbling against Taeil’s jeans until at last, he finds the zipper. 

The sound of it sliding down seems to barrel through the room. If Johnny makes a sound, Taeil can’t hear it over the sound of his moan. Sicheng is palming him through his boxers, and Taeil’s eyes are closed tight. Arousal floods his entire system. 

“Please,” he whispers into his self-inflicted darkness. 

Taeil doesn’t even know what he wants. Just something,  _ anything.  _ He gets his wish too. Sicheng lets off his neck, but it’s to turn his attention to Taeil’s pants, which are pulled down from his waist. Johnny’s unmistakable groan accompanies this. Taeil barely spares him a further thought, however, when Sicheng finally gets his hand wrapped around his cock. 

Taeil wants to cry. Sicheng’s hand is warm, slightly callused,  _ practiced.  _ And the weight hovering above him is addictive. Sicheng rests his weight between his knees and free hand, hips pressing low where he works Taeil with skilled fingers. 

When he comes, it’s entirely too soon. It happens with Sicheng’s tongue inside his mouth and Sicheng’s clothed dick rubbing against his own, Sicheng’s too warm hand working with precum as his only lube. Taeil wouldn’t say it’s the best orgasm he’s ever had, but it’s the first ever initiated and chased by  _ Sicheng _ . Taeil’s mind, and definitely his body, can’t even cope. 

Sicheng rolls to side with a stern, pleased expression. Taeil can see that he’s still hard, but he looks in no hurry to get himself off and Taeil, well Taeil is confused. He’s lying between two different men with his pants pulled down to his thighs, cold drying cum stuck to his stomach and shirt. Before he can decide what to do or what to say or who to even say it  _ to _ , Sicheng is leaning over one last time and pressing a light kiss to his lips. 

Then he’s gone, quick as he came. 

Taeil lies there and just,  _ breathes.  _ Eventually, he pulls up his boxers. The jeans he kicks to the foot of the bed. He can feel Johnny’s stare. There’s a tent in his pants which he’s palming softly, also in no apparent rush. Taeil braces himself and meets his gaze. 

“Johnny?” he asks, slightly worried about what he’ll say. 

He gets a smirk instead, and a facetious, “Yes?”

Taeil grimaces. He tries to laugh. 

Then Johnny says, “Well if that wasn’t the hottest piece of posturing I’ve ever seen.” He sounds impressed. Taeil thinks his eyes tell a different story. 

  
  
  


Monday morning Sicheng is out of the house before Taeil wakes up. Johnny left even earlier, not terribly long after Sicheng walked out. He took a shower using Taeil’s bathroom and probably rubbed one out. Taeil finds his towel hanging neatly behind the door. He strokes it once. It’s still too damp for Taeil to remove and add it to the hamper. 

The workday is another Monday drudgery. Taeil banters across the aisle with Jaehyun. He rubs shoulders with Kun during breaks. Mark waves once from his cubicle when Taeil has to cross the office. Taeil is grateful, as these few little exchanges relieve the boredom and the headache of what’s setting out to be yet another mundane, but stressful work week. As if he didn’t have enough in his head after the weekend. 

In some ways, however, this is good. Taeil needs a dose of the familiar to separate the drama of his relationship(s) with both Johnny and Sicheng. Returning to the office does the deed of forcing him to think about anything _but_ his love life. On the other hand, he can’t help but notice how none of the people he works with are the kind of friends Taeil would be able to talk to about things. How does one walk up to someone, for instance, like Jaehyun and begin a conversation, “So I had two guys in my bed last night, but it’s not as exciting as it sounds?” Jaehyun, with whose boyfriend Taeil once had a one-night stand. In the same vein, Taeil doesn’t think Kun is the kind of guy he could open up to either, friendly as he is. And he shudders to think how Mark would blush and stammer if Taeil so much as mentioned anything about his personal life. 

Yuta is the only person who knows Taeil well enough, but it sounds like Yuta has enough issues on his plate already. Also, what is Yuta actually supposed to say? Is there anyone even up to the talk of giving Taeil advice? Does Taeil even  _ need _ advice? 

The more he thinks on it, the more Taeil realizes he doesn’t  _ have _ to think about it. He’s going to let whatever started run its course. And that means, letting Sicheng continue to pursue him. 

Jungwoo catches him midday chewing on his pen cap, reminiscing about the night before. 

“Having good thoughts?” 

Taeil startles at the man’s soft insinuation. He throws down his pen, actively telling himself there’s no way Jungwoo actually knows anything. 

“Hm? Ah, nothing much.” Taeil grins goofily. He’s aware he must look  _ so _ innocent right now. 

Jungwoo, however, only smiles, head tilted like he’s amused. “I’ll leave you too it then. Just wanted to drop a message. Donghyuck wants to go for drinks after work. Office-wide invite.”

“Donghyuck’s invite? On a Monday?” Taeil chuckles nervously. Donghyuck is the baby in the office, yet somehow he decides when and where their pseudo-mandatory coworkers’ outings get to occur. Rumor is his uncle’s part of upper management. 

“Guess I’ll be there.” 

Drinks mean dinner and a later night out. Not that anyone really cares it’s only Monday. Donghyuck at least has the grace to pick a good spot. Taeil heads for the restroom as soon as they arrive, parting with Jaehyun who’d walked over with him. When he returns, he’s not surprised to see a few additional faces including, of course, Dongyoung. Taeil chooses a seat far away from the couple, angling for a corner view next to Mark, who is unlikely to pose any impertinent questions the later the night progresses, unlike many of their other coworkers. 

The giant round table quickly fills up. Donghyuck takes up the position of mood maker, cheerfully—obnoxiously—determining their first round of appetizers and singling out the stragglers arriving late. Taeil is honestly surprised to see Yuta trailing in a quarter past the hour late. He’s even more surprised to see Sicheng walking right in tow. 

“Hey, what’s up? Sorry, I’m late. Look who I ran into on the way here!” 

Yuta greets half the guys by name and then heads for one of the last available seats, the two on Taeil’s right. 

Unbidden, Taeil starts to panic. He hasn’t seen Sicheng in exactly twenty hours. And that was when… was when… 

Yuta has his hand on the seat back closest to Taeil when Sicheng abruptly circumvents him. Then  _ he  _ is sitting to Taeil’s right, with Yuta farther away. 

They don’t look at each other. They don’t even say ‘Hi.’ In spite of that, Taeil feels  _ warm. _

The food comes out, the drinks roll back. Taeil enjoys the pleasant buzz of easy socialization. He laughs when someone says a joke, cringes when it comes at his expense. He even deftly avoids a question about Johnny that Yuta practically shouts across Sicheng’s lap. Taeil forgets how long the hand has been there on his thigh, hidden under the table skirt. At some point, he joins their fingers. 

It’s when the evening comes to a close that their hidden relationship comes under threat. Taeil stands up, happily tipsy. He stumbles; Sicheng catches him. 

Donghyuck’s laughter pitches through the restaurant as they hobble their way out the door. 

“Hey, Sicheng!” He shouts, overly loud. “Wanna come with us? Round 2?”

Jaehyun chimes in on cue, “On a Monday? Come on, wait for the weekend at least,” ever the voice of reason. 

Donghyuck ignores him. “Ah, come on. I got real things to do on a weekend.” 

Mark smacks him. He gets ignored too.

The pillar holding Taeil upright suddenly dips and falls away, and Taeil recognizes Yuta pulling at Sicheng’s arm with a pout on his face. 

“Nah, Sicheng is coming with me, aren’t you?”

Taeil doesn’t hear what he says in reply. He’s too busy trying to find his balance on his own two feet and waving at Jaehyun who’s saying, “Well, have fun, everyone else. Dongyoung and I are going home.”

The street lights are entirely too bright, and the sidewalk too narrow. Taeil wishes he hadn’t driven to work. His car is still in the parking garage opposite the office which means he’ll have to use public transport now to get home and in the morning. Jungwoo is now arguing with Donghyuck about whether they should call it a night or pick another spot, and Taeil just doesn’t want to deal with that. 

“Sicheng?” he whines suddenly, and Sicheng is there, holding onto his elbow, another arm winding low across his back. 

“I’m going to take him home,” he says in that deep voice Taeil rarely hears but loves it when he does.

“What? Nooo, Sicheng, come on. You said you’d hang out with me this week!” Yuta complains. He sounds even drunker than Taeil feels. 

“Tomorrow, tomorrow. Okay?”

“Not okay… please?” 

Does this make it two nights Yuta’s gotten drunk? Last night he dragged Johnny out. Tonight he wants Sicheng. Maybe Taeil needs to take him out tomorrow, find out what’s going on. 

Mark tries to help. “Hey, Sicheng, we can get Taeil home if you want to go with Yuta.”

“What?” cries Donghyuck, “what about Round 2?”

“It’s a Monday!” Mark reiterates Jaehyun’s earlier argument. 

“But–“ 

“ _ I’ll  _ take Taeil home.” Sicheng’s voice grows, if anything, deeper. “We live together.”

Yuta coos. “Aww, look at you now. Fine fine, go with him. But when you get married, remember  _ I’m _ the one who set you up.”

Donghyuck giggles. “Married? Who, them?” 

Mark shushes him. “Donghyuck!”

“What? I can’t laugh? I just think that– woah!! Shit!!” 

Taeil has finally had enough. He uses what little energy he has to twist around in Sicheng’s hold and smash his lips against the other’s. Sicheng jostles and almost drops him, but his hands quickly find purchase as he angles Taeil toward him. The whole thing takes seconds, and they’re kissing now in earnest. Sicheng’s mouth is warm against Taeil’s. He tastes like the drinks they shared at the table. Taeil scrambles to get his hand around his neck, further tying them together. He hears gasps all around and Donghyuck still cursing in shock.

Eventually he pulls away. Sicheng looks at him fondly. Then he says, “We’ll be going now.”

Taeil can’t contain his smile as he gets pulled away. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to Donghyuck that he comes out being the obnoxious one. Someone in NCT had to draw the short stick. 
> 
> ANYWAYS. I have my new baby now. He came a whole month early which totally blew all my plans, but that's life. He's 3 weeks old now and has NO idea I've learned how to write fic on my phone behind his head while he sleeps. All's fine and right with the world.


	6. Chapter 6

Waking up with a hangover is never high on Taeil’s to-do list. Unfortunately, it happens. This time he wakes up alone, tangled in his blankets, mouth parched. His memory of last night is fuzzy. Unfortunately, it’s not that fuzzy. Taeil groans into his pillow which is delightfully covered in drool. He remembers kissing Sicheng. Then giggling a lot on the way home. Then giggling some more when Sicheng tried to maneuver him indoors, down the hall, and into his bed. 

At some point, they’d collapsed together in a heap.  And that’s the last thing Taeil remembers. Sicheng must have removed himself somehow and gone to sleep in his own room. That’s probably for the best too because Taeil really likes this thing they’ve got going on right now. It’d be a shame to jeopardize it so soon subjecting Sicheng to a drunk, clingy, and frankly unattractive Taeil. The glimpse he has of himself in the mirror above his dresser is proof of that right now. 

He heads off to the bathroom to brush his teeth before the smell of himself causes him to pass out. Little by little, the dumb things he said to Sicheng on the drive home come back to him. 

“You’re really bold, you know. I  _ like that _ . I like that  _ so much _ .”

“Do you know you’re really nice? Like way too nice.”

“I could  _ marry _ you!” Followed by more giggles.

Taeil groans again. He rests his palms on the sink, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, his eyes pinched shut tight in emotional pain. For some reason, he can’t remember any of Sicheng’s replies. Perhaps he’d wisely kept silent. 

There’s no sign of Sicheng in the kitchen, nor evidence that he’s ever been awake. The towels in the bathroom had been dry and untouched. The kitchen is spotless. Taeil eats his breakfast in silence. His spoon hitting the bottom of the bowl is loud in his ears. He drops it daintily into the sink with a wince before inching back to his room to load up on some headache relievers. 

He really should get to work soon. Taeil already slept in too late and spent far too much time dawdling around the house. But he pauses outside Sicheng’s door and wonders for one long second whether or not he should go in.

The door squeaks on his hinges as he pushes it open. He stops and listens. There’s a steady, even sound of breathing coming from the bed. After a moment Taeil’s eyes adjust to the lump lying there. He pads softly across the room and stops only when his shins come into contact with the bed frame. 

Sicheng’s face lies in shadow. His hair is a mess. It’s sticking up in all directions and Taeil can’t say he’s seen anything cuter than that. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be standing here like a creep. He’s never done anything like this before. Then again, things have changed between them. Last night they kissed, and that isn’t even the farthest they’ve gone. Taeil blushes just looking at him. His face has gone a little oily, and his sheets lay rumpled around his body, one fist held aloft with his fingers tightly wound around the corner of his pillowcase. 

Taeil sighs and the sound must have come out too loud because Sicheng fidgets and his eyes flutter awake. 

“I… I’m sorry. Go back to sleep,” Taeil whispers frantically. 

Sicheng is blinking at him. At first, he seems confused, and Taeil is about to make his escape when Sicheng instead smiles. It’s a barely there expression, but his entire face just softens with the effort. 

“Taeil?”

“Hmmm.” 

He reaches out with the hand closest to Taeil. Their fingertips touch and Taeil doesn’t waste a moment clasping them together. 

“Are you alright?” whispers Sicheng. “No headache or anything?”

Taeil grins. Fuck, he’s just so  _ fond _ of Sicheng right now. “I took some medicine. Thank you for getting me home last night.”

“Anyone would have done that.”

Taeil doesn’t contradict him. Plenty of his co-workers wouldn’t have bothered. “Thanks anyway. I’m going to work now. Uhm, sleep in if you can?”

“I will.”

Taeil leaves him there, worried that if he keeps up the conversation Sicheng will get up after all, and that’ll make Taeil feel guilty. 

But when he pulls into the parking garage nearest his work and looks at his phone he sees a message from Sicheng anyway. 

_ :: Call Yuta. I forgot I can’t have dinner with him tonight. I have a late interview :: _

_ :: I think he really needs someone rn :: _

Taeil assures him he will and makes the arrangements before he can forget. By the time he walks into the building and finds his cubicle he’s officially five minutes late. Fortunately for him, Donghyuck arrives fifteen minutes late, and Jungwoo a full minute after that. Mark, who arrived before all of them looking worse for the wear but still functional, just shakes his head at them. 

Taeil smiles at each of them as they pass his row. Donghyuck visibly stops and his face pales a little, mouth twitching like he wants to say something, but then a door slams on the other side of the floor as one of the bosses makes her presence known. All employees, hungover or not, quickly bow their heads and assume work-related positions. 

Meeting Yuta after work means Taeil can’t meet with Johnny. He answers a few texts about last night, nothing specific though. On his lunch break, Taeil deftly avoids his co-workers and snags a sandwich from the nearest cafe down the block. That’s when Johnny calls him. 

“Hey, I have about four minutes left of my break. What’s up?” 

Johnny pouts dramatically on the other side of the line. “Guess I’ll just have to talk fast.” He then proceeds to say almost nothing at all. Taeil swears he can hear him smiling. In spite of that, there’s a clipped tone to Johnny’s voice that has Taeil’s nerves on edge. They trade a few mundane facts about their respective mornings and make tentative plans to see each other sometime this week. 

By the time Taeil hangs up he’s almost relieved. Everything about Johnny has become stressful in light of recent events. He shoves the last of his lunch into his mouth before chucking the wrapper into a trash bin, then takes the stairs up to his office, all five flights. Back at his desk, there’s a fine, disgusting layer of sweat seeping down his back and his shirt’s sticking to his skin, but at least he’s not thinking about his love life any more.

  
  
  


“So, tell me what’s going on?” 

It’s a strange turn of events that Taeil’s the one asking the question. He’s not exactly the go-to person for expert life advice, especially when there’s love involved. Case in point, his own life. But Yuta is still sober and Taeil hopes to keep him this way. They’re squashed into a tiny booth in a hole in the wall restaurant and Yuta pours over the menu despairingly even though he already knows what he wants. Yuta likes to procrastinate. Taeil does too. But if he doesn’t say something now then they’re never going to get this over with. 

“I suppose you’ve heard something about me and Taeyong,” says Yuta. 

“Not much. Just that you like him.”

Yuta slaps his menu down on the table and adjusts his posture, sitting up in the manner of a man on a mission.

“I like him so much!” Then he slouches back down. Taeil watches him deflate and he sympathizes, he truly does. 

“What seems to be the problem then? Doesn’t he like you back?”

“I think so.”

Taeil can hear Yuta’s knee bouncing anxiously beneath the table. It rubs against the table leg, and the space isn’t big enough that Taeil can escape it. He moves his own feet close to his side of the booth. Yuta’s making him anxious too, not that he wants to share that fact. 

“What’s… what’s your relationship like?” 

They’ve only been together officially for several weeks, but there’s no use telling Yuta he’s panicking too soon. 

“It’s great?”

Taeil chuckles at the implied question there. “Are you asking me to agree? Because I literally have met the guy twice, and neither time was I able to talk to him.”

“Oh right, because your life is starting to look messier than mine!” That seems to cheer Yuta up, otherwise Taeil would be offended. 

“Excuse me?” he huffs. 

Yuta just grins, and fortunately, their food arrives so Taeil is saved from having to ask and Yuta doesn’t pry any further. They keep the conversation light for a few minutes. Yuta picks at his food and checks his phone a lot. More than once he reads a text and his face lights up. Taeil can’t help thinking it’s a good look on Yuta. Better than when he puts his phone back down and he can practically see the wheels of overbearing reality bearing down on his head. What’s he even supposed to do here? If Johnny hasn’t been able to calm Yuta down from his overthinking, how is Taeil more likely to help? 

It hits him unexpectedly. 

“Why don’t you invite Taeyong out this week. We can uhm, double date?”

Yuta finishes chewing a bite. Slowly he puts down his fork. “You… you’d do that? That sounds, okay. But Johnny’s kind of busy this week. That’s what he told me.”

“Oh.” And Taeil’s face drops. “Actually, I was thinking with Sicheng… if that’s alright?”

For several long drawn out seconds Yuta says nothing. He blinks a couple of times and his face retains this neutral gaze. Taeil realizes he’s shocked him. But all Yuta says is, “That sounds good.” Then he goes back to eating, a barely-there smile hidden behind his spoon. 

With the crisis so averted another day, Taeil only has the rest of the evening to distract Yuta. 

“Wanna go see a movie?”

“What, in an actual theater?”

“Well, yeah?” 

Yuta makes a show of thinking about it, muttering something along the lines of “movies are just those things you watch half of before making out.”

“You’re a heathen,” says Taeil, pretending to be scandalized. 

“Nope. Just admitting the truth. So I might as well be up front and ask if you want to make out with me in the back of the theater.”

“Not on your life!” Taeil laughs. 

But they do sit in the back and they do chitchat under their breaths and cause the people sitting closest to glare at them in disapproval. All in all, a successful outing. 

  
  
  


 

 

It’s incredibly late when Taeil gets home. The lights are off in the living room, he just assumes Sicheng is asleep already. Taeil tips off his shoes and creeps through the room yawning. He has got to quit staying up so late! Making a vow to be a homebody for at least the remaining weekdays, he steals into the kitchen looking to make some ramen before bed. 

He flips on the light and screams.

Sicheng is standing in his kitchen, a bag of chips in one hand and in the other a single chip halfway to his mouth. He blinks from the sudden assault of light, giving Taeil time enough to take in this picture. Sicheng stands there—had been there in the dark—eating chips wearing a T-shirt and a loose pair of shorts with knee-high socks. 

Since Taeil is incapable of speaking, Sicheng eventually eats his chip and says, “Hi, Taeil?”

Taeil shakes his head to jump-start his brain. “I didn’t expect you to be in here.”

Sicheng smiles. “I kind of figured that out from your scream.”

“Sorry.” Taeil blushes. There’s just… so much knee and thigh on view before him. “I was out with Yuta. We saw a movie.”

Sicheng nods and eats another chip. 

“How was your interview? Was it for that… that, uhm choreographer thing you talked about?”

Taeil’s vocabulary of dance is highly limited but he has to be impressed he remembered that word, then Sicheng nods. 

“Yeah. I think I might get it.”

That’s all he offers so Taeil doesn’t ask for further details. Instead, he apologizes as he had to shift Sicheng around to get to the ramen cabinet. “Want any?” 

“No, thanks. I ate already.”

Taeil sneaks a glimpse of Sicheng over the bridge of his nose as he pours water into the pot. It should be impossible that somebody eating chips can be so cute. Apparently, it’s not. Sicheng is living proof of that.

In spite of the fact he claims to have eaten, Sicheng makes no move to leave the kitchen. Rather he stands off to the side watching Taeil’s every move. Taeil drops the lid to the pot and giggles nervously.  Sicheng gives him a smile of encouragement which does  _ not  _ help the overall situation. He’s used to being in awkward situations with Sicheng. It’s kind of like their  _ thing _ , back in the day, before Sicheng literally held Taeil’s dick in his hands, and now Taeil isn’t entirely sure why he’s sticking around but he honestly doesn’t mind.

Taeil lays the pot on the table and sits down to eat. Wordlessly Sicheng sits opposite even though the empty chip bag is long thrown away. He folds one palm under his chin, elbow planted firmly on the table with his phone in the other hand. He lets Taeil eat in relative peace until Taeil says, “I uhm, told Yuta maybe we could hang out with him and Taeyong later this week?”

It takes ten seconds for Sicheng to peel his eyes away from whatever internet thing he’s reading, place it on the table, and then look at Taeil. “You and me?”

“Yes.”

And another five seconds before Sicheng smiles. “Okay.”

He resumes scrolling, eyes glued to his screen and Taeil thinks that’s it until he adds a minute later. “Hanging out, or is it a double date?” He never even looks up. 

“I guess, it can be whatever we want it to be?”

How’s that for decisive? Taeil slurps up the last of his ramen and waits for Sicheng to say something else,  _ anything _ else. 

But Sicheng says nothing. He only hums a bit, neither an affirmative nor disapproving sound. It’s a Sicheng sound. Taeil is good at recognizing those by now. The kind that says he is just going to have to wait because time isn’t a priority here. Sicheng lives practically in another dimension. And that’s fine, that’s  _ absolutely _ fine. It’s just a tiny bit nerve-wracking. 

Taeil rinses the dishes and saves the heavy washing for the morning. He pours himself a cup of water. 

“I’m going to clean up. Uhm, are you going to bed soon?”

“Soon,” Sicheng agrees airily. He does at least put down his phone, throws up his arms and stretches like a cat, yawning loudly. 

So Taeil does his nightly routine. Teeth brushed, face washed, his second nicest pair of pajamas because he’s starting to become self-conscious that Sicheng is going to see him something ratty and unattractive. Then again, Sicheng was the one padding around in striped knee high socks and shorts. Taeil, in his plaid pajama bottoms, has nothing to feel ashamed of. 

Sicheng comes to his door again just as Taeil is laying out his things for the morning. He looks pensive, a strange look for someone is usually playing one hundred percent neutral passive. Taeil goes to him, stops a couple of feet away. He’s uncannily aware that his bed is set to  _ ready, begin _ ,  _ sleep _ , the covers pulled down and his pillows all set. All that remains is one soft yellow lamp in the corner of the room. Taeil can’t say he wasn’t semi preparing himself for something to happen tonight. He just doesn’t know what exactly. 

“Is there…”

Sicheng interrupts him. “Johnny and I talked about something a while ago.”

Taeil freezes, panic starting to set in. “Uhh… you did?”

He nods, growing more determined about something even as Taeil watches his face. “I’ve thought about it. A lot. So I wanted to tell you.”

“Okay? You can tell me…”

The way Sicheng just, drops it is startling enough. “I’m not interested in Johnny. Romantically, or sexually. I think that’s important to tell you.”

Taeil agrees. He wholly agrees, but this is  _ not _ the conversation he was expecting to have right now. 

“That’s… good to know.”

“I’m only interested in you. I don’t really want anything else. If you…” and the hesitation in Sicheng’s voice, in his eyes, is almost devastating, “if that’s not okay with you, then tell me now. Please.”

There’s a lot he’s implying and a lot Taeil doesn’t know what exactly to address. It’s never been a secret to Sicheng the specifics of his and Johnny’s relationship, and so far he and Sicheng have never explicitly talked about it. That was probably a mistake.  _ This _ , however, is definitely. 

“I’m okay with that,” says Taeil breathlessly. “Really okay.”

There’s palpable relief in Sicheng’s features, then just a hint of a smile. He looks down at Taeil and their eyes meet briefly. 

“Do you want to come in?” 

Sicheng nods but his footsteps are slow. Taeil follows his lead. He doesn’t have a better plan. His legs hit the back of his bed, and the  _ last _ time this happened things got heated fast. The difference is there’s no third person asleep on his bed. It’s just him and Sicheng, and their lips finding each other in the pale yellow light. 

He remembers when Sicheng first moved in. All those non-conversations, their missed interactions, every awkward encounter, living with a stranger who could barely be said to exist. Taeil was upset and annoyed, and then came the rumor and talk where he believed Sicheng didn’t like him. 

How different it is now…. how very different when Sicheng is laying on the bed and Taeil cradling him from above. They kiss for a long time with very little urgency. Taeil drags a stray hand down Sicheng’s side, pushing aside his T-shirt and Sicheng breaks off from his kissing to arch his back, mewling a tiny, beautiful noise of pleasure that had all of Taeil’s skin tingling in anticipation. 

This time there’s nothing to prove, no one to impress. Sicheng pushes his shorts down his thighs and Taeil removes them altogether. He removes his shirt then helps Sicheng do the same. It’s the softest, slowest set of handjobs Taeil’s ever been a part of but when Sicheng comes Taeil is right there to see his face, lips parted slightly, eyes clenched shut as euphoria gives way to a happy exhaustion. 

“Do you… wanna stay?” Taeil whispers. 

He rolls over to clean himself off with a tissue and cut the light at the same time, already knowing that Sicheng in his cozy state beneath Taeil’s comforter is not going anywhere tonight. 

“Mmmm,” he moans. He wraps the blanket even closer and rolls to face Taeil. 

“Goodnight,” says Taeil, finding Sicheng’s waist beneath the sheets. He smiles in the darkness, even though nobody can see him. Especially because no one can see him. Finally, it seems, his life is starting to feel complete. 

  
  
  
  
  


Mid-morning the next day Taeil is pouring hot water over his instant coffee in the breakroom, still smiling, still euphoric. But this isn’t the kind of news he can just share with the world, and it’s killing him a little to keep it all inside. Maybe later, maybe he’ll tell Yuta. Yuta would be proud of the progress he’s made. Yuta would be happy for him and Sicheng, even in his current state of troubled love. 

The door opens and Taeil turns around expecting just about anyone besides… Donghyuck. 

“Morning.” He nods expressionlessly. He and Donghyuck don’t talk to each other in particular, but more so in the presence of others. 

The other, however, approaches him nervously, reminding Taeil of yesterday’s encounter when it seemed Donghyuck wanted to say something. 

“Uhh, good morning.” Donghyuck scratches his head and hesitates just long enough for Taeil to gather, he’s not here for the coffee. In spite of that, Donghyuck turns to the counter and starts fiddling with an empty paper cup. His fingers toy with a little selection of tea bags without picking anything. “So, uhm.”

Taeil smiles encouragingly. “Is there, something the matter?”

“No? No. Not really. I just… actually I wanted to apologize to you about something.”

“Oh?” Taeil is confused, though he does have a hunch about what’s coming. 

His co-worker takes a big breath in then slowly exhales. “I’m sorry.” 

That’s it, and Taeil just blinks. “You’re… forgiven? I’m sorry, but  _ why  _ are you sorry?”

“For saying weird things about you and Sicheng.” Donghyuck speaks fast, like he’ll chicken out of he doesn’t get this over with. “Mark and I talked, and I realized I might have said some mean things, and honestly I thought you were dating that Johnny guy? So I didn’t know Sicheng liked you or that uhh, okay this is just really weird now and I don’t know what to say exactly, but sorry if I hurt your feelings or anything. I’m just glad you’re happy.”

Taeil’s smile widens and widens until even Donghyuck is looking freaked out. 

“Johnny and I have always had an open thing, so it’s not unbelievable you were confused.”

“Really?” He chuckles awkwardly. “Well, now that makes more sense I guess. I mean what with Mark and saying something about Johnny and Ten and… Uhm.” He pauses at Taeil’s faltering expression. 

“Ten? Uhm, yeah I’ve met him.” Once, and heard about him only twice. Something tightens unpleasantly around Taeil’s heart cavity but he forces himself to remember this morning, waking up to Sicheng’s adorable bed head and teasable grin. That helps a lot. “Uh, Donghyuck. Thanks for… you know. This.” 

“Right!” 

Donghyuck is nodding furiously like he totally agrees this was the right thing to do, even if he’s the one who initiated it. “I’m going back to work now and uhm, see you around?”

“See you around, yeah.” 

Taeil grins and waves him off, then finishes making his coffee. He texts Johnny as soon as he gets back to his cubicle. 

_ ::Dinner this weekend? I’m hanging out with Yuta on Friday, but does Saturday work for you?:: _

Five minutes later exactly, Johnny replies. 

_ ::Saturday is great!::  _ with a smattering of heart emojis, one flower, a thumbs up, and a pair of lips.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me: [Twitter](https://twitter.com/ShineALightRose) ~ [CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/ShineALightRose)


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